


Chilli Wow-Fuck-You

by Rollthedice



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Background Mark Turpin, Gen, If Chilli Wowa's was real, Sips rocks up like eeeeyyy, background Lewis, background paul (sjin), but they also kinda love it, everyone hates their job, hatfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-17 04:19:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 34,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2296397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rollthedice/pseuds/Rollthedice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a universe where Chilli Wowa's is real and Ross, Alex and Chris are employed in one of it's branches.</p><p>Or the one where everyone goes mad, Chilli's get thrown and working in a restaurant is a very very bad idea.</p><p> </p><p>  <em>Chili Wowa’s was infamous for its taste sensation similar to making out with a volcano for roughly five hours, then drinking hot magma whilst relaxing in a pit of fire. In other words, it’s a bloody mystery that health and safety haven’t shut them down yet, especially after the coma inducing “Billy’s big double surprise burger."</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Company rule 37

**Author's Note:**

> Hoping to make this multichapered as I'm really having fun with this AU!  
> I got the idea in one of Sjins farm episodes when Chilli Wowa's was still being built and Sjin talked about needing staff and the first thing I thought of was when Alex and Ross baked Chris that cake for his birthday and somehow this all started to make sense

Chili Wowa’s was infamous for its taste sensation similar to making out with a volcano for roughly five hours, then drinking hot magma whilst relaxing in a pit of fire. In other words, it’s a bloody mystery that health and safety haven’t shut them down yet, especially after the coma inducing “Billy’s big double surprise burger.” A burger where the ‘surprise’ was that the burger patty had no meat and instead was made up entirely of ground up Ghost Chilli peppers and Habenero spice and the ‘double’ was that the buns were soaked in three different kinds of hot sauce that were illegal in most countries. Nevertheless, the restaurant did well for itself, with a steady supply of customers and the rising demand for more chilli based food that has absolutely nothing to do with the time Chris (Sips to his friends) ‘accidentally’ spilled some of the addictive substance known as cocaine he had brought in order to exchange it for a home cinema system on the black market into the chilli mix. They managed to get most of it out. Most of it.

Either way, a restaurant needs workers, or else what’s the point of anything? Willing employee’s that have what it takes to get up at four in the morning ready to kill for their job, a loyal trio prepared to sacrifice anything to keep the restaurant alive.

Ross Hornby, Alex Smith and Chris Trott were not that trio.

They were however the first to apply for the job.

 

\--

 

“Where’s table number five’s order?” Ross asked, smoothing down his crisp white shirt as he spoke and looking across the kitchen at the Chef who was currently humming along to the radio as he worked.

“Over there.” Alex said, pointing with his spatula at the far end of the kitchen. “Actually use your eyes for once will you?”

“Maybe I could if your portions weren’t so bloody small.” Ross said, smirking at the chef as he picked up the plates.

“Yeah whatever mate.” Alex said, turning back to his work. “I can’t make a portion big enough for your ego.”

“Ooooh zinger!” Ross laughed, carrying the plates out of the room with a grin plastered onto his face, leaving Alex shaking his head fondly after him. A few minutes later Ross was back again, muttering under his breath and glaring accusingly at the doorway he had entered from.

“Have I ever told you how much I hate people? Because I really hate people.” He muttered, shoving one of the plates onto the counter and glaring at it as if it had personally offended him, or stolen his Superdry shirt or something unspeakably evil like that.

“Maybe being a waiter wasn’t the best career choice.” Alex said, raising an eyebrow at his friend.

“Just...Fix it!” Ross said, waving his hands in the air in exasperation, looking less like a twenty-six year old adult and more like a lost child in Tesco’s trying to find his mother in the frozen aisle.

“What’s wrong with it?” Alex asked, crossing the room to stand by Ross, still clutching the greasy spatula in his palm. “It looks fine.” It looked better than fine actually, it looked bloody delicious. He would serve this steak to the bloody Queen if she was into this sort of stuff.

“She said it was too _spicy._ ” Ross said, scrunching up his nose in annoyance.

“Spicy?” Alex repeated, prodding the steak with his spatula. “We’re a bloody chilli restaurant, what did she expect?!?”

“That’s what I said!” Ross exclaimed, looking at Alex expectantly. “Well? Do something! You’re the chef!”

“Ross mate, all we have is chilli’s, it’s chilli day every day, there’s only so much a man can do with chilli’s.” Alex said, looking between his friend and the half eaten chilli steak.

“You are no help.” Ross sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.“I’ll see if Chris can get her an extra big glass of fucking water or something.” He said as he left the kitchen, still muttering to himself. Alex waited until Ross had left earshot before turning to the uneaten steak “I swear to god if I have to throw _another_ meal away I’m going to kill someone.” He grumbled, picking up the plate and inspecting it closely. “There’s nothing wrong with you...Unbelievable.”

 

 --

 

“Hey Chris, can I get a glass of water?" Ross asked, leaning over the bar and folding his arms on the wooden surface. “No.” Chris said, not looking up from the glass he was currently filling for a customer. “It’s not for me you twat!” Ross said, before glancing apologetically at the customer. “I’ll uh, I’ll wait.” he said, turning to glance out of the window at the farmland that surrounded them and wondering what he did to deserve any of this. Maybe he stepped on a bug in a previous life or something and this was the universe’s way of saying fuck you bug murdering scum.

He was interrupted from his trance by Chris flicking an ice cube at him. “What d’you want?” he asked, hand hovering over the pint glasses.

“What?” Ross asked, dazed for a moment. “Oh yeah, uh, this woman was complaining about her spicy food being too spicy or something, can I get some water for her?”

“I told the bosses that selling only spicy food was a dumb idea.” Chris said, shaking his head as he piled ice into the glass.

“Yeah, well they clearly didn't listen to you...Can’t say I blame them.” Ross said.

Chris grinned, filling the glass with water and passing it to Ross “Get back to being yelled at by customers.” He said, shooing Ross away with a dish cloth.

“Everyone always shoots the messenger!” Ross said as he took the glass and began to walk back to the tables.

“Just two more hours mate!” Chris called after him “Can you taste that freedom?”

“It tastes like chilli’s!” Ross yelled back. “Just like everything else!”

 

 --

 

Life in the solitude of his kitchen could get pretty boring. Ross was in and out with plates too quickly to stop and chat and Chris only ever stepped in to his fortress of fooditude (Calling it that seemed like a good idea at the time) when he needed to stock up on something. They don’t earn much here, but Chris and Ross chipped in their wages to help Alex buy a radio, a proper good one too. Not one of those fiddly things where you spend ten minutes trying to find the station and if it gets nudged even _slightly_ then the whole things fucked. This was Alex’s baby, a baby that could talk and sing. Frankly it was better than a baby, the radio doesn't cry or crap itself all the time. Plus babies can’t sing Taylor Swift either. (Neither can Alex, but that’s not going to stop him from trying.)

“I KNEW YOU WERE TROUBLE WHEN YOU WALKED IN.” Alex sang as he straightened up and wiped his hands down the front of his branded apron. “SO SHAME ON ME NOW” He belted as he picked up his spatula from where it rested on the counter. “FLEW ME TO PLACES I'VE NEVER BEEN.” He flipped the chilli burger over and turned up the heat a notch. “NOW I’M LYING ON THE COLD HARD GROUND.”

 

“Whats that sound?” A mother sat with her two children asked. Her husband looked up and around them in confusion. “...Sounds like...Taylor Swift but....not?” He said, frowning at the general direction of Smith’s voice.

“Oh god...” Ross groaned, finishing serving drinks to the table neighbouring the family. With a quick and fearful glance towards the kitchen he began walking quickly back to the bar to put the tray back. “He’s at it again.” he said, looking up at Chris with an air of desperation.

“Oh no...” Chris said, looking over Ross’ shoulder into the restaurant with an expression similar to a man being mugged on the street by an Elvis Presley impersonator, not even needing to ask what Ross meant he shook his head, gripping on to the pint glass in his hand. “Well...Good luck!”

“No way! C’mon man! I’ll look after the bar, you go tell him to shut up.” Ross groaned, flopping his arms over the bar counter and resting his head in the crook of his elbow.

“No one tells Alex Smith to shut up, you just distract him with something shiny.” Chris said, taking the tray off Ross and putting it back on the pile. “Pleeeaaaassseeee?” Ross begged, pouting in a way that Chris couldn’t help but laugh at. It was hard to say no to Ross at the best of times, he's always had a funny way of making you feel extremely guilty just by looking at you. “Fine.” He said “But if one glass is broken when I get back I will kill you.”

“Not if I kill you first.” Ross muttered under his breath.

“What?”

“I said I’ll be careful!” Ross promised, grinning widely at his friend. “Thanks mate, I owe you one.”

Chris laughed again, heading out of the bar and weaving his way through the tables towards the kitchen and his inevitable doom where the sound of singing was getting louder and louder.

“CAUSE I KNEW YOU WERE TROUBLE WHEN YOU WALKED IN.” Alex sang just as Chris entered the room. He pointed his spatula at him, specks of grease flying off the end and catapulting to the floor, a single speck landing on Chris’ cheek. “SO SHAME ON ME NOW...”

“Alex.”

“FLEW ME TO PLACES I’VE NEVER BEEN.”

“Mate.”

“TILL YOU PUT ME DOWN.”

Chris glared at him and ran his palm across his face before reaching over the kitchen counter and pulling the plug for the radio out of the socket. The radio slowly fizzled out of life and the sudden loss of music made the kitchen seem a lot emptier than it was before.

“You didn’t have to _actually_ put me down. What was that for?!” Alex asked, frowning slightly as he turned back to preparing the chilli burger.

“You were singing so loud you were almost yodelling, I’m pretty sure the barley from the fields even head you.” Chris said, still holding the plug in his right hand.

“So? You love it really.” Alex shrugged, grinning as he pulled the chilli fries out of the fryer.

“Nope. No. Nu-uh, false statement.” Chris said “You were so loud I think you scared Ross.”

“Scared him? This isn’t a nature documentary, Ross isn’t some type of frightened wildlife.” Alex said, chuckling.

“Y’never know.” Chris said with a grin

“And here we see the rare Ross Hornby in his natural habitat.” Alex said, donning an impression of David Attenborough and wielding his spatula as a microphone “A violent creature who chases his prey down and forces them to ingest their own faecal matter by yelling ‘Eat shit’ as loud and as often as he can. The only thing capable of scaring a wild Ross Hornby is the beautiful and tuneful singing of a handsome bearded man-“

“Tooting your own horn a bit there mate.” Chris said, propping himself up against the wall.

“It’s all true though!” Alex said with a grin. “He’ll be alright.”

 “I think he’s still annoyed about that woman from earlier.”

“What did she actually do? All I heard was she apparently isn't a spice fan.” Alex said, leaning against the counter.

“She started shouting about false advertising; something about hairless dogs...I’m not really sure, I heard her yelling from all the way over at my bar.”

“Really? That’s a bit weir-“

Smith’s voice was cut off half way through his sentence by a loud and familiar yelp coming from the front of restaurant, Chris and Alex both looked at each other in confusion and moments later Ross pushed through the kitchen door, face and shirt drenched in water. “Chris. You’re needed at the bar.” he groaned, grabbing a nearby cloth and pressing it to his face.

They couldn't help it, Alex and Chris burst into laughter at the sight of Ross, and lets be honest here, he did look like a bit of a prat standing there getting the kitchen floor all wet. “Did you fall in the sludge again mate?” Alex asked between breaths, leaning against Chris who was doubled over with laughter. “Yeah yeah laugh it up!” Ross said, unable to keep a slight grin from forming on his damp face. “But no, zero sludge involved.”

“What happened then?” Chris asked, straightening up and taking off his glasses to wipe the tears from his eyes.

“That bloody woman threw her water all over me!! She said even the water tasted like Chilli’s, how is that even possible?!” Ross exclaimed, running the cloth through his hair in an attempt to dry himself off. He hated people, loathed them, despised them, with all their complaining and water throwing and the stupid looks on their stupid faces. Not all people are bad. Just most of them, especially that woman. Good god he hated that woman. If it wasn’t for Company Rule 37 Subsection C – Do not punch the customers (Ross that means you) he would have gone super saiyan. Well maybe not, Ross isn’t one for conflict. But you can be sure that he would at least glare at her for a good few minutes. And Ross is _really_ good at glaring.

Chris continued laughing as he left the kitchen and headed back to the bar, the sound of his laughter slowly fading as he got further away. “Hate to rain on your already shit parade mate, but table number eighteen’s orders ready.” Alex said, biting the inside of his cheek as a last ditch effort to stop himself from laughing. Ross groaned into the cloth before discarding it on the counter and reaching out for the plates “I hate this place.” He muttered as he left through the kitchen door. The moment the door swung closed Alex burst into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, almost slipping over in the small pool Ross left behind him.

“Excuse me, are you Alex Smith?” a deep voice interrupted, Alex looked up to see a tall balding man standing in the kitchen doorway, holding a clipboard in his right hand. “Uhh, yeah, that’s me.” Alex said, smoothing out his apron “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just need you to sign here for this delivery.” The other man drawled, pushing his clipboard and a pen towards Alex before slipping out of the door, only to reappear a moment later to push a large crate through the door. Alex eyed the crate wearily as he signed along the dotted line. “Thanks mate.” he said, handing the clipboard back and watching as the delivery man disappeared back out of the door. Without much hesitation he approached the crate and undid the clasp on the front, swinging the lid open.

A foul stench filled the room as Alex looked on in horror, unable to tear his eyes away from the contents of the crate no matter how much he wanted to. Somewhere in the background of his mind near the cobwebs and the memory of that rope swing that snapped under his friends weight dramatic music began to play and a thick bile rose in his stomach. Using the counter to support himself he continued to stare at the crate in disbelief, a silent plea for help ringing in his head as he came to terms with what he saw in front of him.

Chilli’s.

Hundreds upon hundreds of chilli’s

With an annoyed frown he slammed the lid back down and glared at the crate as if it were responsible for all that was wrong in the world “Fucking chilli’s.” He growled. “Why do we have so many fucking chilli’s.”

 

Ross strode through the kitchen door laden with empty plates and almost walked straight into the crate. Wrinkling his nose in disgust he looked across the kitchen at Alex. “Why does it smell weird in here? Weirder than normal I mean.”

“We have another crate of chilli’s to add to the six other crates in the back room.” Alex grunted, not meeting Ross’ eyes in favour of continuing to glare at the crate. “We’re going to have to start taking them home at this rate.”

“God no!” Ross groaned, putting the plates down on the metallic surface and beginning to load them into the dishwasher “I can’t look at another chilli again, and Chris hates spices anyway...Looks like they’re all yours mate!”

Alex lifted his gaze from the crate to glare at Ross. “If ever I find out how to kill a man using just chilli I swear to god you’ll be the first to go.”

“The first?” Ross mimicked. “I’m honoured! Do I get a special plaque as well?”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Alex said, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the counter, watching Ross finish up with the plates.

“Well, yes I would...That’s why I asked for one.” Ross said as he straightened up.

“Would it make you happy?” Alex said, struggling to stop himself from grinning.

“Yes, yes it would.”

“Then fuck right off mate, no plaque for you.”

“Ooh, wounding.” Ross said, raising his eyebrow with a grin as he turned the washing machine on and made his way back across the kitchen. “I’ll make my own, it’ll be one of a kind mate, one of a kind!”

“Just like you, you twat.” Alex said with a grin.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“It’s not supposed to be.”

 

 --

 

“Thank you for eating at Chilli Wowa’s” Chris said as he stewarded people outside the door. “Where if it ain't Chilli, it’s just silly. Please come again never kay thanks bye!” he said, closing the door on them and retreating with a grin back to the bar. “It’s all over boys!” He called out, opening the till to count the money and to put it in the appropriate boxes. “Everyone’s gone and we are officially closed!”

“Finally!” Ross yelled from the other side of the restaurant where he was busy wiping down the tables and tucking in the chairs. “Hey Alex mate.” He yelled. “Shifts over!”

“Halle-fucking-lujah!” Alex’s voice called from the kitchen “Party at mine!”

“No freaking way man.” Chris yelled out. “I’m heading straight to bed like the boring old man I am.”

“I’m so tired I could fall asleep in the bin outside.” Ross muttered to nobody in particular. And nobody seemed to hear him, apart from maybe the potted plant that sat proudly on the window sill. But the plant offered no thought or input to the conversation and so was omitted from the talk.

“I’ve got GTA Fiiiiiivvveeee.” Alex sang, his voice warbling through to the restaurant and Chris could practically hear him smirking, the bastard knew he had won.

“I’ve still got that three computer set up, haven’t managed to sell them yet.” He continued, walking out of the kitchen “So we’re all good!”

 --

“ALEX.” Chris yelled for the umpteenth time, throwing his hands in the air and spinning around in his chair to glare accusingly at his friend.

“Yeah mate?” Alex asked, as if he hadn’t just committed the mass murder of at least sixteen innocent people.

“You exploded my car...and me!”

“No I didn’t.”  Alex said, pressing a button on his keyboard. Seconds later multiple things on the screen blew up around him like the fourth of July.

“You did it again!” Chris said, exasperated.

“Nooo...Wasn’t me.” Alex said with a grin, not taking his eyes off the screen.

Chris looked at Alex for a moment and realised that he wasn’t getting anywhere. Attempting a different approach he turned to Ross “Avenge my death!” He wailed in a ghostly voice “Avenge me Ross!”

“Working on it!” Came Ross’ reply. His eyes firmly glued onto the screen in front of him, biting his lip in concentration.

“Where are you Ross?” Alex asked, leaning to the side in his chair and craning his head to try and see Ross’ screen.

“I am everywhere and I am nowhere.” Ross said, a slow grin forming on his face “I am high and I am low. I am up and I am down...I’M ALSO RIGHT ABOVE YOU MOTHERFUCKER.”

“Wait what?” Alex asked, spinning his camera around and frantically trying to get out of his car, or speed up, or something, anything to get out of the way of whatever Ross had planned.

“EAT SHIT!!”

“OH MY GOD ROSS.” Alex laughed, staring in disbelief at his screen as Ross’ Titan flew straight into his car. Turning what was once a proud vehicle in to a firework display of debris and sending Alex’s character flying out of the window and falling dead face down in the middle of the road, being run over a few times for good measure. “That was amazing!”

“Yeah you know it son!” Ross said, grinning widely as he hit the respawn button.

“You have done me proud.” Chris said in his ghostly voice “I have been avenged.”

 

Half an hour later the game finally came to a close and the trio moved over to the TV and flicked it on, settling on the first show they landed on as none of them were really paying much attention to it anyway.

Ross’ eyelids began to droop as he stared blankly at the flickering screen. The conversation between the other two completely lost to him as he fought to keep his eyes open. Every muscle in his body begged and ached for sleep and he ignored them as best as he could, staring at the television as if it could fix all the world’s problems.

“Ross mate, you alright?” Chris asked.

No reply.

“Ross?” Alex joined in, jostling Ross’ shoulder in an attempt to get his attention.

It worked a treat, Ross’ eyelids were flung wide open and he jolted slightly in his seat, looking around in panic before his slightly bloodshot eyes rested on Alex’s.

“Tired?” Alex asked, grinning cheekily.

“What? No, I’m fine.” Ross said, stifling a badly timed yawn.

“You look like a zombie mate” Chris said “Eat Alex first yeah? He’s closest.”

“Or you could go the extra step and eat Chris first, totally worth it.”

Ross rolled his eyes and fixed his attention back at the television screen. Chris looked at him for a moment before turning to Alex. “Speaking of eating, do you have any food here? I’m starving”

“No” Alex deadpanned. “No food here. I survive solely by licking the walls for sustenance.”

“Weird thing is that’s something you would do.” Chris said with a laugh, pulling himself up off his chair and padding across the floor towards the kitchen with Alex following close behind.

“Look in there.” Alex said, pointing at the fridge “Why don’t you just eat at the restaurant?”

“Because I value my life?” Chris said, rifling through the shelves of the fridge in search of something edible and finally emerging with a packet of bacon. “Plus I hear the chef might spit in your food, sounds like a dick doesn’t he?”

“I heard the chef was a great guy.” Alex said, folding his arms with a smile. “And he’s _really really_ good at singing Taylor Swift.”

“You heard wrong.” Chris grinned, pulling a frying pan out of the washing machine and throwing a few slices of bacon into it. “He’s got two friends though, and they’re pretty awesome.”

“Good to know.” Alex said. “It would be nice to have ‘awesome’ friends instead of you two idiots.”

“Hey!” Chris protested. “Us ‘two idiots’ were the awesome friends I was talking about.”

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to lie?” Alex said with a grin, leaning against his kitchen counter.

Chris rolled his eyes and flipped over his bacon “She told me not to talk to strangers. She was right about that one, because I talked to you once and regretted it ever since.”

“You wound me Chris.” Alex said, clutching his chest in mock sorrow.

“Good.” Chris nodded as he flipped the bacon over.

“Not gonna lie mate.” Alex began. “It’s a bit weird that you’re the one cooking in my apartment.”

Chris shrugged. “Not like it hasn’t happened before, plus I don’t trust you, like, at all. Not after the pepper incident of 2012.”

“Oh come on Trotty!” Alex groaned, a sly grin slipping on to his features. “It wasn’t that bad!”

“I had to drink six pints of water!” Chris said. “I couldn’t taste anything for two weeks! Who puts ghost peppers in someone’s oatmeal anyway?!”

“Clearly someone who had thought of a great idea for a prank.” Alex said, puffing out his chest proudly, earning a swift whack from Chris’ spatula.

“Whatever you maniac.” Chris said as he picked up a piece of bacon and shoved it straight into his mouth, no need even for a plate. Alex would have questioned it, but a hungry mans gotta do what a hungry mans gotta do.

“What are you getting Ross for his birthday?” Chris said between mouthfuls of bacon.

“Probably a medal that says ‘Worlds number 2 idiot – Shortly behind Chris Trott’” Alex shrugged with a grin.

“I’m sure he’ll love that.” Chris said, shaking his head.

 

With Chris’ hunger satisfied they padded back into the lounge to find that Ross was no longer sat in his chair.

“Ross?” Alex called, glancing around the apartment.

“Maybe he left?” Chris questioned aloud

“Without saying goodbye?”

 “Maybe he-“

 

They were interrupted by a slight, quiet snore below them and they looked down to see Ross passed out on the sofa, curled up so that his legs don’t hang off the edge.

“Well...” Chris mused “I found him.”

Alex stood silently, scratching his beard as he weighed the options in his mind.

“I feel bad about waking him.” Chris said, looking at the peaceful sleeping figure of his friend, more relaxed than they had seen him in months.

“Leave him.” Alex said “He can stay here. It’s too dangerous for him to drive home when he’s this tired.”

“Alright.” Chris nodded, scooping up his bag from the ground and casting one final look at Ross before heading to the front door. “Remember it’s inspection day tomorrow!” He called over his shoulder. “Have a fun sleepover!”

 

Alex waved Chris out of the door and closed it, locking up and discarding the keys in the bowl. For a moment he stood and watched the sleeping form of his friend, noting the way his chest rose and fell with every breath, and how every now and then he would shiver slightly.

Alex disappeared through to the other room. Only to reappear a moment later carrying a blanket and a pillow. He haphazardly threw the blanket over the top of the sleeping figure and gently lifted Ross’ head up in order to place the pillow down.

 _“How can water taste like chilli??”_ Ross muttered, turning over in his sleep and Alex had to fight the urge to laugh, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“G’night you twat.” He said with a fond smile, flicking the light switch off and padding across the hallway to his own room where he collapsed in to bed and promptly fell asleep moments later.


	2. Is your refrigerator running?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Jeez.” Ross said. “Why are you so worked up about this one? Usually you just take the piss out of well... everything.”_  
>   
> 
> _“It might have something to do with the fact that Lewis called me at like three in the morning to tell me that the guy inspecting us is an ex cage fighter and will shut us down if we get three strikes and we’ll be out of a job.” Chris said grimly._
> 
>    
>  _“I heard he kills babies for fun...And eats them.” Alex said._
> 
>    
>  _“I heard he got fired from working at a graveyard because he was scaring the dead.” Chris nodded._
> 
>    
>  _“He went on The Apprentice and he fired Lord Sugar.” Alex continued._
> 
>  
> 
> _“Basically.” Chris said. “He’s bad news and we can’t let him find anything wrong.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chilli Wow-Fuck-You, now multichaptered and showing in 3D in selected cinemas near you.  
> Totally worth it.

Alex awoke in a state of alarm to the smell of something cooking, blearily he blinked sleep out of his eyes until the situation caught up with him. Fearing he had left the gas on, or half his apartment was on fire with Ross trapped in the flames he catapulted himself out of the bed, tangling himself in his duvet as he went and crashing to the floor in an Alex shaped burrito. He groaned as he tried to untangle himself and just as he was about to stand he was caught off guard by the sound of someone singing. Singing that sounded more like Ross singing and less like Ross screaming as the flames overtook him and burnt him to a very sad crisp. It took a moment for Alex to calm down, placing a steadying hand on the end of his bed as he let out a deep breath and grinned, sighing with relief as he reached out for the clothes strewn over the top of the chair in the corner of his only slightly messy room. Shrugging on an old T shirt and a faded pair of jeans before leaving the room and padding across the empty hall. Silently he stood in the doorway to the kitchen and watched Ross, still in the same clothes he was wearing last night, flitting around the room multitasking to the best of his ability. He flicked the kettle on whilst simultaneously cracking an egg over the top of the frying pan, the tiredness and ache of his bones from the previous night seemingly healed and Alex briefly wondered if his sofa had magical healing properties. He could probably make money off that.

 _“I'm hooked on a feeling.”_ Ross sang quietly, as if trying not to wake his host, unaware that his host was actually standing behind him with a goofy grin, just waiting for the right moment to reveal himself. _"I'm high on believing!"_ Ross glanced at his watch before turning his gaze back to the frying pan, staring at it intently as if he expected the food to magically be cooked just through the power of his stare. Sadly, Ross doesn’t have magical seeing powers and the food continued to gently and slowly cook. The song faded from his lips and was replaced by an intense air of concentration, if Alex didn’t know any better he would have guessed Ross was trying to figure out how to break into a bank or steal the crown jewels, not something as simple as cooking breakfast. The sound of the forgotten kettle reaching boiling point startled the cooking man and he turned too quickly, catching his hand on the side of the pan and cursing loudly, gripping his burnt hand in his other he mouthed obscenities under his breath, glaring accusingly at the pan which innocently continued being a pan, though Ross knew that it was actually the devil in disguise or it was possessed by the ghost of a maniac or something equally impossible. Fucking frying pans teaming up with the fucking kettle just to cause him pain. Ross would swear his revenge. He would-

His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of laughter from the doorway, he turned slowly to see Alex grinning wildly at him, eyes lit up with something akin to joy and Ross couldn’t help but smile guiltily back.

“Your frying pan attacked me.” He said, his initial annoyance fading as the hilarity of the situation caught up to him. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to know you shouldn’t give up your day job.” Alex said with a grin, crossing the room to the kettle and pulling two mugs out of the cupboard.

“Wish I could!” Ross said. He wasn’t serious, or was he? He didn’t even know anymore.

“Nah, you’d miss it after a week.” Alex said as he grabbed the milk out of the fridge.

“Oh yeah, I’d end up throwing water over myself just to feel like I was there.” Ross said, chuckling lightly. “Can you pass me some plates?”

Alex nodded, swinging one of the cupboard doors open and pulling out two plates. “What are you even doing?” he asked, leaning over Ross’ shoulder to get a better look.

“Making breakfast mate.” Ross said with a grin, pushing Alex away and taking the plates off him. “What does it look like?”

“It looks like you’re stealing all my bacon, you can’t honestly eat _all_ of that can you?” Alex asked, turning his attention back to making coffee and gazing forlornly at the near empty pack of bacon on his kitchen counter. He barely got the chance to enjoy that pack of bacon, and it was a nice pack too. He splashed out like a whole extra pound by not going for the stores own brand for once. But after all that’s what friends are for, sleeping on your sofa and eating all your bacon, aren’t friends just great.

“It’s for both of us you twat.” Ross said “My way of saying thanks for letting me sleep on your sofa without you drawing on me with Sharpie… Again.”

“Sharpie...” Alex mused. “I knew I was forgetting something.”

Ross grinned, piling a portion of eggs and bacon onto one of the plates. “You missed your chance there mate, now eat up before I bash you over the head with this frying pan.”

“I don’t know how you can go from thanking me to threatening me in a matter of seconds.” Alex said laughing cheerily as he picked up the plate and fetched his cup of coffee, strolling in to the next room with Ross following close behind.

 

They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes. The only sounds being the slurps of coffee and the quiet clash of cutlery against plates. Well, that was until Alex’s shrill alarm clock went off in the next room, the sound echoing through the hallway and startling the boys out of their companionable silence.

 _“Shit!”_   Ross mouthed, looking at the large stain his coffee made on his shirt when he jumped. With an annoyed frown he glanced at his watch. “Who sets an alarm for fifteen minutes before they’re supposed to go to work?!”

“Someone who doesn’t want to go to work?” Alex grinned apologetically, bouncing off to shut the alarm off and hopefully Ross thought, stamp on it several times and throw it out the window.

At that moment Ross’ phone beeped several times in succession, distracting him from the alarm long enough to unlock his phone and skim through the messages.

**06:15 Chris Trott**

_Hey mate, you up? You better be up._

**06:15 Chris Trott**

_Alex better not have killed you in your sleep_

**06:15 Chris Trott**

_It’s inspection day remember_

**06:15 Chris Trott**

_We all need to be there on time, Lewis is breathing down my neck about this_

**06:16 Chris Trott**

_Something about this inspector being a real dick or something_

**06:16 Chris Trott**

_So don’t piss off any customers today_

**06:16 Chris Trott**

_Just, don’t be yourself or something. Be nice. See you in a bit! Kick Alex for me will you? KAY THANKS._

 

Ross groaned, reading through the messages again and hoping his overly active mind made up the bit about the inspection. He glanced again at the stain on his shirt and cursed under his breath, he didn’t even have a change of clothes with him. The universe officially hated him, he only had himself to blame really, if only his past self never stepped on that bug maybe this would never have happened. Maybe he would be a millionaire or something.

“Turn that frown upside down Dorothy.” Alex jibed, sliding back into the room “S’not the end of the world.”

“I can’t go in to work like this.” Ross said, swiveling around and out of the chair “Might need to stop off at my place before work.”

“No time mate!” Alex said “We gotta be there by seven, takes half an hour to get there and you live a good fifteen minutes away”

Ross groaned again “I don’t suppose you've got any good stain remover?”

Alex laughed, shaking his head “God no, don’t need it.” He thought for a moment before the obvious solution hit him straight in the face, and honestly he didn’t know why it took him so long to think of it. “You’ll have to go shirtless.” He said, nodding as if it were the most sane and suitable solution.

Ross looked mildly appalled for a moment before laughing. “I don’t think so, you would only end up using my body to distract the inspector or something, I am not a piece of meat!” He said, unable to keep a straight face.

“Well you’ll have to borrow one of my shirts then.” Alex grinned, disappearing back into his room. He rummaged around his wardrobe for a moment before finding a white shirt not unlike the one Ross usually wears for work. “Here you go you twat, don’t spill anything on this one too.”

Ross made a series of rude gestures involving his middle finger before locking himself in the bathroom to get changed. Alex sat back down on the sofa, pulling out his phone and checking through the messages he missed whilst they were eating.

**06:13 Scrottyboy**

_THIS IS A WAKE UP TEXT, WAKE UP YOU TWAT_

**06:13 Scrottyboy**

_For real though, get out of bed_

**06:15 Scrottyboy**

_It’s inspection day motherfukaaaaaaa_

**06:17 Scrottyboy**

_Ross isn't replying to my texts, you killed him didn't you?_

**06:17 Scrottyboy**

_I am so not helping you bury the body_

**06:18 Scrottyboy**

_Also I told him to kick you for me, but if he’s dead he can’t...Can you just kick yourself instead?_

Another message came through whilst he was reading, his phone vibrating in his hand.

**06:21 Scrottyboy**

_You guys better be on your way or I’m going to trap you in the restaurant and slowly fill it with gas and laugh as you die. I’ll probs have to gas Ross and the inspector too. And Lewis and Paul...Probably Simon and Sipsy too...._

**06:21 Scrottyboy**

_That plan actually sounds like a lot of work and a lot of gassing, I really can’t be bothered so please hurry up so I don’t have to go through all that._

 

Alex grinned, sending Chris back a simple _“Okay, see you in ten hours.”_ and gleefully ignoring the messages that almost immediately come back filled with all kinds of imaginative curse words. He grabbed his bag from its resting ground near the door and plucked his keys out of the bowl just as Ross re-emerged from the bathroom, his stained shirt bundled up in his left hand. “We ready?” he asked, shoving the shirt into his bag and shrugging it onto his shoulders.

“Let’s go.” Alex said, opening the door and shepherding Ross outside. “Chris wants to gas us to death. He may be small but I do not doubt his ability to wield a gas can.”

 

\--

 

They arrived at the restaurant about ten minutes before they were scheduled to open, Chris was already there wiping down his bar and making sure everything was stocked up.

“Finally.” He greeted them. “The inspector will be here in an hour, so anyone coming in for breakfast will need to be seated quickly.”

“Jeez.” Ross said. “Why are you so worked up about this one? Usually you just take the piss out of well... everything.”

“It might have something to do with the fact that Lewis called me at like three in the morning to tell me that the guy inspecting us is an ex cage fighter and will shut us down if we get three strikes and we’ll be out of a job.” Chris said grimly.

“I heard he kills babies for fun...And eats them.” Alex said.

“I heard he got fired from working at a graveyard because he was scaring the dead.” Chris nodded.

“He went on The Apprentice and _he_ fired Lord Sugar.” Alex continued.

“Basically.” Chris said. “He’s bad news and we can’t let him find anything wrong.”

“Lewis did say that if we get shut down then he’ll get really drunk and accidentally break something that we love.” Ross mused, grabbing a cloth from the bar so he can begin making sure all the tables are clean.

“Oh no Chris! You’re My Little Pony collection!” Alex said, mock gasping as he grinned at his friend.

“What a shame.” Chris said, throwing his dirty cloth at Alex’s head. “Go clean up your kitchen or I’ll gas you early.”

“Bit rude.” Ross said from where he was scrubbing at a stubborn stain on one of the tables. “Don’t gas him here, I don’t want to go down with him.”

Chris turned to him and opened his mouth prepared to make some kind of witty comeback, but his words fell short and he frowned at Ross, flitting his gaze between Ross and Alex as if trying to fit together a really challenging puzzle. Like one of those stupid jigsaws where you have to make the Eiffel tower but one of the pieces is missing and you end up spending six hours on the fucking thing for nothing.

“You alright mate? Cat got your tongue?” Ross asked, straightening up and feeling slightly uncomfortable under Chris’ stare.

“Are you wearing Alex’s clothes?” Chris asked. Ross opened his mouth, then closed it again. Unsure of what to say.

“Uh..Yeah?” He said. “I st-“ he began, but Chris held up his hand to stop him from talking.

“Honestly guys..” He said, shaking his head. “If you’re going to shag each other can you not do it the night before an inspection.”

“What? No!” Ross protested. “I just stained my shirt wit- don’t look at me like that! With _coffee_ Chris. _Coffee_.”

“Chris is just jealous of our love.” Alex said, laughing at the scandalized look on Ross’ face.

“You wish!” Chris said. “I’d rather drown myself in the toilet.”

“You’re small enough to fit inside one.” Alex said, grinning wildly. “Anyway, Ross, honey. Back to work!”

Ross narrowed his eyes at Alex before turning back to Chris “You honestly think I’d end up with Alex? Of all people? Good god man, I’m not that desperate!” he grinned, waggling his eyebrows.

“Wow, harsh.” Alex said, chuckling.

“Just winding you up mate.” Chris said, grinning at Ross. “Seriously though, back to work, both of you!”

  
\--

 

The morning shifts were always slow, surprisingly not that many people want chilli for breakfast. Chris doesn’t blame them, if he had a choice he wouldn’t have chilli ever, not for breakfast, lunch, dinner or anything in between. In fact, if he never has to see another chilli again he would die a happy man. A happy, old, chilli hating man. He leant across the bar, glancing up at the clock every few minutes. There were only two customers so far and they were eating quietly, keeping themselves to themselves. Probably on their way to work or something, though if they were choosing to eat here they were more likely on death’s row and just wanted to get it over quickly. Or maybe something less dramatic than that, he wasn’t psychic.

Chris yawned out of boredom, moving to make himself a glass of water. The clock hanging above the entrance told him that they only had fifteen minutes before the inspector was due to arrive. Ross was watering the plants in the windowsills and the faint sound of the radio in the kitchen carried over to the bar. It was weirdly soothing to know that Ross and Alex were nearby.

Things were quiet, almost relaxing.

Then of course the doors had to be flung open like a nuclear bomb had just gone off and a flurry of panic stormed inside, tripping over the coat rack and falling to the floor. It reached out to grab on to a barstool for support but ended up dragging that down too before landing in a pile on the floor. A moment later the figure jumped up back on its feet as if nothing had happened and fixed Chris with a wide eyed stare.

“Fifteen minutes.” Lewis said, enunciating the number as if he expected Chris to not understand. “Is everything ready? Is everything clean? Where’s Alex? Has Ross fallen in the sludge again?”

Chris blinked, looking at Lewis with a mix of amusement and confusion, not used to seeing his usually calm and controlled boss so panicked. “Everything’s fine. Where’s Paul?”

“Crying.” Lewis said, running his hand through his hair. “Or laughing. Or dead. I’m not sure.”

“Well…That’s…Good.” Chris said slowly.

“If the inspector asks for us we’re not here okay? We’re in Mexico. Or Cuba. Is Cuba more believable?”

“I’ll just say you’re out of town…” Chris said, glancing over at the customers who seem to have grown interested in his conversation.

“Good. Yes. Good idea. This is why I hired you.” Lewis said, nodding as he spoke. He stood silently for a minute, scratching his chin as if he was thinking. Chris shuffled uncomfortably, opening his mouth to say something but was interrupted by the doors crashing open again and another figure falling through in his haste, tripping over the coat rack that was still on the floor with a loud yelp. He scrambled to his feet quickly, clutching on to the edge of the bar to support himself.

“Fifteen minutes!” Paul moaned and Chris prayed for the sweet release of death.

 

\--

 

The clock above the door ticked threateningly, getting closer and closer to doomsday. Chris and Ross found themselves staring almost without blinking at the clock and we can only assume that Alex was doing the same with the clock in the kitchen. Their customers left without them noticing, staring at the boys in confusion as they walked past them and out of the restaurant. The only sound bar the ticking of the clock was the faint noise of Lewis and Paul talking in the back room, the radio in the kitchen turned off for the first time in months.

"What do you think he looks like?" Ross mused, not taking his gaze off the clock.

"I bet he's got scars." Chris said, almost whispering. "Maybe the skin on his face is all torn off."

Ross nodded, gulping and letting out a tense sigh. "He could probably lift the entire restaurant and crush it in one fist."

"We might just die today buddy." Chris said grimly, flinching as the clock struck eight, his eyes clenched firmly shut. Slowly he opened one eye, glancing at the doorway only to find it empty.

"Huh..." he said, looking back up at the  clock in case he got the time wrong.

The entire restaurant fell into silence, the sound of Lewis and Paul talking faded in to nothingness and Ross swore under his breath.

"He's late?" Ross asked, breaking the silence after a further five minutes had passed. That didn't make any sense, the picture they had painted this man to be surely wouldn't be late.

"An inspector is never late nor is he early." came a voice from the door. "He arrives precisely when he means to."

Chris blinked at the man in the doorway, the disappointingly normal looking man with no scars or torn skin. He didn’t even look like he could lift the restaurant and would probably break his back if he tried. This couldn't be him.

"Uh, Good morning." he said, sharing a confused glance with Ross. "Sorry we were just waiting for someone, are you here to eat?"

"Well, I'm the inspector...This is Chilli Wowa’s right?" he asked, looking between Chris and Ross.

"That's us." Ross said. "It's just...You're not...you don't...You're not what we expected." he admitted, scratching the back of his neck with his hand.

"Ahh." the inspector said. "Well I had to step in for my colleague, lucky thing too, that guy was insane, he tried to kill a guy with a spoon once! And that guy was me! Bloody terrifying experience."

Chris grinned, suitably more at ease. "Well that's a bloody relief." he said, laughing away his earlier nerves. Suddenly everything seemed so much easier, this guy looks like a nice bloke too, they might just be able to get off easy without all those strict rules.

"My names Mark Turpin." the inspector said, pulling out a clipboard out of seemingly nowhere. “I’m supposed to be following this really _really_ strict list my colleague gave me.” He continued, not noticing the way the colour drained from Ross’ and Chris’ faces. “But as long as you guys are all clean everything will be fine!”

“Great…”Ross said, smiling nervously at Mark and quickly excusing himself once a customer walked through the door.

Mark looked at the list on his clipboard then back up at Chris “Says here I should be shadowing you guys as you work, you don’t mind do you?”

Chris shook his head, allowing Mark to join him behind the bar. “You’re…” Mark began, glancing back down at his clipboard for a moment. “Chris right?”

He nodded and Mark beamed at him. “Great! Well Chris, pretend I’m not even here!”

That would have been much easier to do if the bar wasn’t so small and Mark wasn’t almost pressed against his back as he tried to shuffle around. He could tell that Mark was uncomfortable too with the way he kept trying to squeeze past and get out of the way. This whole setup was bloody ridiculous and Chris actually found himself quite glad that Mark wasn’t as big as an ex cage fighter or else he might just have suffocated.

“Two Peroni’s please.” Ross said, picking up a tray from the other side of the bar. Chris leveled him with a strange stare. As a rule they rarely ever said please to each other, usually swapping the word out for something more fittingly violent. But with the fugitive glances Ross kept sending Mark, Chris understood.

“Peroni?” Mark said, leaning against the back of the bar “I had some of that on my last holiday. That’s actually where I decided to become an inspector...Funny word isn’t it? Inspector. In-spect-or. Inspect, like an insect with glasses. Speaking of  insects have you seen the P.T demo? Those cockroaches freaked me right out!”

Chris blinked, handing the two bottles to Ross with a slow sense of confusion. This was all too much to take in at once. This was pretty much the opposite of what he had been gearing himself up for all day. He wanted to ask what the hell was going on, but instead said “There weren’t many of them though right?”

“There were enough!” Mark said almost cheerily as he poked around the bar, pulling out a stack of papers. “What are these?”

“Hmm?” Chris said, turning around to see the stack in Mark’s hands and trying and failing to keep a laugh from falling from his lips. “Oh those? They’re the contracts people used to have to sign before eating here, y’know... Just in case.”

“What?” Mark asked, looking at Chris as if he had misheard him. A moment later Chris realized his mistake, mouth hanging slightly open as his brain fought to find an explanation for the contracts.

“I mean uh...They belong to Ross.” He said. “They’re his um, adoption forms.”

“Adoption forms?” Mark asked. Looking down at the papers in confusion. “There’s a lot of them…”

“Well it’s a tough process.” Chris said, nodding as he spoke in an attempt to make his words seem true.

At that moment Ross returned with his tray, placing it back on top of the pile. “Ross!” Chris almost yelled. “The man himself!”

Ross turned to look at Chris, finding the smaller man looking at him with a wild, manic look in his eyes. “Congratulations!” Chris said, grabbing the papers from Mark’s hands and shoving them at Ross. “Good luck with the adoption buddy! Here’s all your forms! Go put them somewhere safe!”

Ross blinked, looking down at the swarm of papers then back up at Chris. “But I’m not-”

Chris suddenly coughed extremely loudly, drowning out what Ross was saying. “Back to work now Ross! Go on!”

Ross frowned, looking at Chris with confusion as he slowly walked away from the bar, his arms laden with papers and his mind full of unanswered questions. He took them through the kitchen and dumped them in an empty box in one of the back rooms.

“You alright mate?” Alex asked, looking at the puzzled look on Ross’ face.

“Adoption.” Ross said, and left it at that as he walked back out of the room, leaving Alex staring after him feeling just as confused as everyone else.

 

Chris chewed nervously on his lower lip, they had barely gotten away with the contract problem and Mark had been eyeing him curiously ever since. The inspector seemed to be constantly writing things down on his clipboard, and when he wasn’t he was making some obscure reference or retelling a story. Under different circumstances Chris thinks that maybe they would have been friends. But as things stood his and his friends jobs were all held in Mark’s weirdly smooth hands. Like seriously, they weren't natural. It’s like he bathes in Talcum powder or something.

“Where’s your bin?” Mark asked, checking something on his list.

“Over there.” Chris said, pointing to the bin that jutted out slightly from underneath the Guinness tap.

Mark nodded, ticking something off on his list. Chris hoped that was a good sign. “And where’s your sink?”

“In the kitchen?” Chris said uncertainly. “There was uh, no space to install one behind the bar.”

Mark frowned slightly, flicking through some sheets attached to his clipboard “Section 36 in the Restaurant keepers health and safety manual states that there must be a sink behind the bar for hygiene purposes.”

“Well I do use the sink, just I go to the kitchen to do it, that still counts right?” Chris asked, scratching the back of his neck.

“Sadly no.” Mark said, shaking his head. “There needs to be a sink installed somewhere around the bar area…” He trailed off, still scanning through his papers as if searching for a solution. With a sigh he shook his head again and took out his pen, making a large cross on the first page “Sorry man. But it’s alright! You still have two whole strikes left, you guys will do fine!” Mark said, smiling so hopefully at Chris that the younger man couldn’t even be mad at him for the strike.

“Great…” He said, hoping that his friends would have better luck with the inspection.

 

\--

 

Ross was carrying two full plates out of the kitchen and into the restaurant and making his way over to one of the tables when Mark popped up out of nowhere in front of him. He almost dropped the plates in his surprise but thankfully managed to keep a good grip on them.

“Hello!” Mark beamed and Ross found himself smiling back. “I’ll be shadowing you for a bit, seeing how you work etcetera etcetera.” He said with a wave of his hand. “So just carry on with how you normally work, I’ll be like a silent ghost by your side!”

Ross nodded, glancing across the restaurant to where Chris stood behind the bar looking ready to pull his hair out and break a few glasses for good measure. He gulped before continuing on his path to the table, taking a lot more care over his steps.

“Twelve ounce chilli steak?” he asked, passing the food over to it’s owner. “And the Supreme chilli dog?” His fake smile came easier than usual as he accepted their thanks and wished them a good meal. Sighing inwardly he turned back to Mark who was busy writing again. Try as he might Ross couldn’t see what Mark was writing, but the handwriting looked positive...He thinks. Maybe.

He crossed the restaurant back to the kitchen, picking up some empty plates on his way with Mark close behind. The lack of radio noise unsettled him and he even missed Alex’s singing. In near silence he loaded up the washing machine.

“So you’re adopting huh Ross?” Mark asked and Alex dropped a frying pan on the floor. “That’s really great! Having a kid is tough work, but it’s totally worth it.” He said with a nod.

“Thanks..” Ross said, smiling uneasily. “I’m really uh, excited.” he said, switching the washing machine on and turning to face Mark.

“You’ll be a single father right?” Mark continued. “Props to you Sir, best of luck!” Alex turned to look at Ross, the food he was cooking forgotten as he looked between Ross and Mark. A puzzled and concerned expression etched on to his face.

“Thanks.” Ross said again, scratching the back of his head before moving to head back out of the kitchen, mouthing a quick _“Chris.”_ to Alex as if that would explain everything.

Strangely enough it did and the sound of Alex’s laughter echoed through the entire restaurant. Even Lewis and Paul heard him from their hiding place upstairs.

“What’s so funny?” Mark asked, looking back at the doorway to the kitchen.

“To him? Everything.” Ross said in explanation, already growing tired of the day. At least nothing had really gone wrong yet. He would have allowed himself to be happy about that, but he really didn't want to jinx it.

A low groaning spread throughout the building, vibrating across the walls and shaking the ground where Mark and Ross stood. Shit. He jinxed it anyway because the universe doesn’t care about jinx’s. All the universe cares about is fucking things up,

“What’s that noise? Whats going on?” Mark said, gripping onto his clipboard as he tried to steady himself.

“Oh no…” Ross muttered under his breath. “Not now…”

“What do you mean?!” Mark said, panicked. “What’s happening?” He grabbed Ross by the arm and shook him lightly. “Is this an earthquake?”

Ross looked at Mark for a moment before deciding that there was no time to explain, tugging his arm out of Mark’s grasp he ran out of the building, passing Chris who was staring outside the window in horror. With a determined frown Mark followed him, running out of the double doors and barreling down the stairs.

“What…” Mark panted slightly after having caught up with Ross. “The fuck...is that?” He asked, looking in horror at the large container that was, for lack of a better word, pulsating.

“That...” Ross said grimly. “Is the sludge collected from the farm.”

The large contraption was filled to bursting with the horrible green liquid. The sides of the tank creaked dangerously. Last time this had happened Ross had drawn the short straw and had to go sort it out, he had climbed on top to fix the piping and had fallen straight into the tank, he was sick for weeks after that.

“It should be all piping out…” Ross said, rolling up his sleeves. “I don’t know why it isn’t working…”

Mark stood by in horror. He wanted to tell Ross just how unsafe and dangerous this whole thing was, but something told him Ross already knew. Plus if he was honest it was actually kinda cool. In that ‘Don’t get too close or I will kill you’ kind of way.

“What are you going to do?!” Mark asked, momentarily forgetting all about his job.

“Make a phone call.” Ross said, pulling his phone out of his pocket and hastily flicking through his contacts until he found the right number.

 

 _“Hello? Chris? I mean...Sips?”_ Ross spoke quickly into the phone, not taking his eyes off the sludge.

 _“Ross buddy! What’s up? I’m kinda busy?”_ Came Sips’ voice through the other end.

_“This is really important Sips, code Barry Manilow important.”_

_“Oh shit man...I’d love to help and all but I’ve got this really great streak on Hearthstone at the moment...”_

_“Sips! The sludge boiler isn’t working! You’re the one that set it up!”_

_“Oh yeah...I had to borrow one of the pipes so that probably explains it.”_

_“What? Why?”_

_“Mind your own business buster! It’s a free country! I can borrow a pipe if I want too.”_

Ross pinched the bridge of his nose. He could just hear the other man smirking through the phone.

 _“Sips.”_ He said, urgent now. _“The whole thing is going to blow, please tell me you at least have a spare pipe thingy near here.”_

“Going to blow?!” Mark said, but his words were lost on Ross who continued talking into the phone.

 _“Of course I do! What do you take me for?_ ” Sips said, laughing slightly. _“There should be one in the-”_

But Ross didn’t hear were the spare pipe was, he didn’t hear anything for at that moment the sludge boiler blew. It’s creaking sides finally giving up under the pressure. Glass and sludge erupted everywhere, running thick and fast like a waterfall towards the farm, and more importantly, towards Ross and Mark.

“Fuck…” Ross muttered, staring in horror at the scene in front of him before his brain caught up with his legs. He jumped out of the way of the sludge just in time, colliding into Mark who had the same idea. They rolled a little way down the hill before scrambling up to their feet and running for shelter.

A shocked cry emanated from the building and Paul’s face appeared in one of the upstairs windows, looking on in horror as the sludge poured onto the farm, that would take weeks to clean! Maybe even months!

“Oh my god.” Mark said, letting out a shaky laugh as he straightened up. Ross couldn’t help but laugh with him. This would undoubtedly be a strike on the list but the circumstances were just so bloody ridiculous it was impossible not to laugh.

“Well…” He said, placing a hand on Mark’s shoulder. “You can’t say Chilli Wowa’s isn’t interesting.”

 

\--

 

After a few calls to some local services and many calls to a disgruntled Chris Lovasz, who found himself eventually having to show up at the scene much to his own displeasure, most of the mess was cleared and the tank was replaced. A team of workers in hazmat suits continued clearing up the sludge that had escaped into the farmland whilst Mark and Ross swiftly got back to work.

“It’s Alex right?” Mark asked, leaning against the kitchen counter and feeling distinctly safer in here than outside with all the sludge.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” Alex said, feeling relatively fidgety as he waited for an order to come through, Usually he had the radio to take the edge off but the fear of getting shut down and losing his job kept him far away from the dial.

“Great well, I don’t want to worry you or anything, but you guys only have one strike left. You seem like nice guys, I really don’t want to have to shut you down.” he said, smiling apologetically at Alex.

Alex looked up at Mark then, and he could tell the inspector meant it. He almost felt sorry for Mark. But then he remembered that he should be feeling sorry for himself and his friends.

“It’s really quiet in here…” Mark noted, glancing around the kitchen curiously.

“Well I usually have the radio on.” Alex admitted with a shrug, glancing testily at Mark, whose eyes seemed to light up.

“So turn in on then!” The inspector said with a grin. “Play on!”

Alex found himself smiling at Marks laid back attitude as he crossed the room to the radio, flicking the main switch on and waiting for it to connect.

“Oh I love this song!” Mark cried gleefully, tapping his fingers against the clipboard in tune with the music.

“Really?” Alex asked, raising an eyebrow. “I never really had you pegged for a Bon Jovi kind of guy.”

“You kidding?” Mark said with a grin. “I am the king of Bon Jovi karaoke!”

Alex laughed and suddenly, without warning, Mark dropped his clipboard on the counter and made wild erratic guitar movements with his arms.

 _“Shot through the heart!”_ He sang, grinning wildly. _“And you’re to blame, you give love a bad name!”_

Alex blinked, looking at Mark in a state of disbelief. The inspector was nothing like the nightmares they had dreamt him up to be. Ever since he overheard the conversation at the very beginning of the day he had been thanking whatever entity had caused them to get Mark instead of his baby killer (probably) colleague.

 _“I play my part, and you play your game. You give love a bad name!”_ Mark continued, nudging Alex with his elbow.

 _“You give love a bad name.”_ Alex joined in, laughing as he did so. This was easy, no way would Mark find anything wrong here. Soon they would all be able to go home and sleep comfortably in their own beds and still have a job to return to the next morning, and hey, who knows, maybe they’ll catch up with Mark in a bar or something.

 

Ross swung by a moment later with an order that Alex took off him, hastily getting back to work. A minute later Ross was gone again, leaving just Alex, Mark and the radio.

“What’s in there?” Mark asked, pointing to one of the back rooms.

“Oh, just one of the storage rooms.” Alex said, not looking up from where he was preparing the food. “The walk in freezers just around the corner too, we keep all the food that needs to be chilled in there so you’ll find it’s all completely up to code.” He said with a smug grin.

There was silence for a moment, broken only by the rattle of a handle.

“Alex?” Mark asked. Alex could hear the frown in his voice, which for starters was bloody weird.

“Yeah?” He said, turning around to look at Mark.

“Why is this room locked?”

“Oh…” Alex said, his gaze dropping from Mark’s face to where his hand rested on a door handle. “Uh, no reason.”

“Then can you open it please?” Mark asked, trying the handle again.

“No.”  Alex said, gripping his spatula tightly in his fist.

Mark blinked at him, narrowing his eyes slightly as all of his years experience of horror films and games came flooding back to him. There was _always_ something creepy behind a locked door in the kitchen. And it was usually dead bodies. Alex didn’t _look_ like a cannibal, or even a murderer...But still, something was very off about this whole situation.

“Alex.” He said. “Open the door.”

“No.” Alex said, staring at the door handle with fear in his eyes. “Please, don’t go in there.”

“Alex.” Mark said, a warning in his tone. “Open this door or else.” Or else what? Mark didn’t know. But the threat sounded good, and by the defeated slump of Alex’s shoulders it seemed to have worked.

“Fine…” Alex said, digging in his pocket for a key. “But I did warn you.” With a grim expression he crossed the kitchen towards the locked door and slipped the key into the lock. “Hold your breath.” He advised Mark, who obeyed against his better judgement.

Slowly Alex turned the lock, the click inside the mechanism seeming to echo through the room. He pulled the door open cautiously and took an immediate step backwards to avoid the inevitable avalanche.

The avalanche of chilli.

Hundreds upon possibly thousands of chilli’s resided behind the locked door, some spilling out on the the kitchen floor the moment the door was opened. Mark was suddenly glad he held his breath when the first wave of chilli stench wafted towards his nostrils.

“We ran out of space…” Alex admitted, nervously turning the door key over in his hands.

This had to be some kind of hoarders dream Mark thought, staring with his mouth agape at the rather impressive collection.

“We uh, we call it Mount Chilli-lad.” Alex said and Mark snorted.

“As funny as that is, this is ridiculously unhygienic! They’re all over the floor!” Mark said, running his hand desperately through his hair.

“Well we don’t really use these ones! There just wasn’t anywhere to dump them, so we had to keep them here till we figured out how to throw them all out.” Alex said, gripping the key so hard it made an imprint in his palm.

Mark shook his head. “I’m really sorry, but whether you use them or not this is a clear violation of health laws!”

Alex stood in silence, racking his brain for a way to fix the situation whilst Mark lifted his pen to make the final strike on his paper.

“Alex mate, are the boxes of wine back there?” Chris’ voice called as he walked into the kitchen.

Mark’s pen was almost at the paper when Chris rounded the corner to the back rooms and Alex panicked, pushing Mark backwards into the walk in freezer and slamming the door shut.

“HELP ME CHRIS.” he yelled, pushing a box against the door and pressing hard with his body weight.

Chris slammed himself against the door, feeling the vibrations as Mark banged against it and looking at Alex in fear. “What did you do?!” he mouthed in panic.

"I fucked up Chris!" Alex said, his eyes wide and his tone manic. "I fucked up real bad!"

At that moment Ross rounded the corner, looking at his friends in confusion. “Who was yelling? Whats going on?”

A muffled yell from inside the freezer starled Ross,  a yell that sounded distinctly like Mark and Ross looked back at where his friends stood guiltily, their backs against the freezer door.

“Nothing?” Chris lied hopefully and Alex nodded wildly next to him, strangely enough, Ross didn’t believe them.

A loud bang from inside the freezer rocked against the door, confirming Ross’ suspicions.

“Why the fuck is Mark in our freezer?!” he yelled, glaring accusingly at Chris and Alex.

“Because he was going to give us three strikes…” Alex said as if it were a question, sounding unsure of himself.

“So you _locked him_ in the _freezer?!”_ Ross said, waving his arms manically by his sides.

“Yes?” Chris said, wincing as the Freezer door banged again.

“You have to let him out.” Ross said, folding his arms across his chest.

“But he’ll shut us down!” Alex moaned, desperately trying to make this work.

“That’s the least of our worries!” Ross said “He might sue us! What were you thinking?!”

“I wasn’t!” Alex yelled.

 

“Guys?” Marks slightly muffled voice drifted from inside the freezer.

“JUST A MINUTE MARK, WE’RE TRYING TO HAVE A CONVERSATION HERE.” Alex yelled. His forehead beginning to sweat from his strain against the door.

“Let him out!” Ross said again. “There are far better ways of dealing with this than _locking the inspector in the freezer.”_

“Like what?” Alex said and Ross fell silent in thought.

“Leave it to the bosses?” Chris suggested. “Go home and eat pizza whilst they sort it out?”

Ross nodded. “Sounds good, now open the bloody door!”

They did as he said, moving away from the door and pushing the box out of the way. They pulled the door open and allowed Mark to quickly step outside, staring at them as if they were insane.

“What the hell guys?!” He asked, rubbing his arms in order to build up heat again.

“I’m sorry Mark…” Alex said, looking at the inspector sheepishly. “I just - I panicked. This job may not be the best paying, and yeah it’s downright life threatening at times. But it’s _ours_ y’know? It’s _our_ life threatening job. We get to work with our best friends and who knows if that'll ever happen again? I couldn’t just let you shut us down...I’d lock the whole inspectors union in a freezer if I had to.” Alex said, staring earnestly at Mark. “If you want to sue, fine. Sue me. But don’t sue these guys. Lewis and Paul worked real hard on this place, I dragged Chris into helping me and Ross is the bugger that talked sense into us about letting you out.”

 

“That was a very beautiful speech.” Mark said, surprisingly sympathetically for a man who had just been locked in a freezer. “Rules however, are rules...There’s nothing I can do. I need to speak to your bosses. As for the future of Chilli Wowa’s and your jobs, it’s all touch and go from here. Good luck boys.” He said, patting each of them on the shoulder as he passed, pausing a few steps in front of them. “Oh, do any of you have a jumper? I’m fucking freezing.”

 

Mark went upstairs in search of Lewis and Paul with Alex’s hoodie, which was a surprisingly good fit, comfortably worn over the top of his clothes.

Back down in the restaurant the trio exchanged glances. All far too aware that this might be the last time they stand in this kitchen,

“Well fuck.” Chris said, the others just nodded. Well fuck indeed.


	3. Starfucks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Sometimes moving on doesn’t mean leaving things behind."_
> 
> _Or the one in which Alex takes the advice of a complete stranger, Disney movies are yelled at and the lives of countless potatoes are needlessly lost._

 

“Read it again Chris.” Alex said, pacing up and down in front of the television in Ross’ apartment.

“Mate.” Chris said, shaking his head and looking up at Alex. “It’s not going to have magically changed since the last twelve times you’ve asked.”

“Just...Please.” Alex sighed, coming to a halt and looking over at Chris’ chair. From this distance he could see the tired bags under Chris’ eyes and the beginning creases of stress forming on his forehead as he frowned.

Chris sat silently for a moment, looking across the room at Ross who was sat almost stoically at the kitchen table, staring at his laptop screen with such intensity that Chris wondered if he was even aware of their presence at all. He sighed, letting out a deep breath as he plucked his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it with familiar deft movements of his fingers.

“Chris.” he read aloud from the most recent message on his phone. “We’re still talking to Mark but it doesn’t look good. Take the rest of the week off, we should know the verdict by Monday. Please let Ross and Alex know, we couldn’t get hold of them.”

“When did Lewis send that?” Alex asked, running a shaking hand through his auburn hair.

“About two hours ago.” Chris said, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

Alex opened his mouth. Then closed it again. Unable to find the words he wanted to say, it was as if he’d lost function of his tongue or a witch had stolen all of his words, something ridiculous like that.

 

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Chris stared solemnly at a spot on the floor in front of his chair, not bothering to look up when he felt Alex walk past him, accidentally knocking the chair with his knee as he went. Somewhere outside on the street below the fourth floor apartment a baby was screaming, tears rolling down its small plump face as it's mother tried her best to soothe it and seagulls soared overhead, gliding past the window with a squawk and a beady eyed stare. It was just like any other day.

 

"What are you doing Ross?" Alex asked, collapsing in the least dignified manner possible into the seat opposite him.

"Looking." was Ross' short reply, his fingers flying across the keyboard before slamming the enter button with more force than necessary.

Alex raised his eyebrow, grinning cheekily at Ross. "For what? Love? I've told you before mate, dating websites aren’t the way, and no ordering Russian brides either."

The corner of Ross' mouth twitched into what might have been considered a smile, but it may have just been a trick the light because a moment later his mouth was pressed into a thin line again, eyes trained on something on his screen.

"Jobs." he said, deliberately not looking up when he heard Alex’s sharp intake of breath. The last thing he wanted to see was Alex’s disappointed stare.

"What?" Alex asked, surprise etched into his tone. He stood quickly, walking around the table to stand next to Ross, peering at the screen. Multiple tabs were open, each of them listings from Craigslist. "You can't be serious!" he almost whispered, trying not to sound as annoyed as he felt.

Ross sighed, lifting his hand from the keyboard to his hairline and pushing it back through his hair. "Look." he said, all too aware of Alex's eyes boring holes into him with his stare. "You heard what Lewis said. I'm just being logical here."

"Logical?" Alex scoffed, placing one hand on the back of Ross' chair and the other on the table surface. "Looks more like giving up if you ask me, what the hell Ross?"

"I'm just considering the possibility that we won't be going back there. Ever." Ross said, feeling uncomfortably trapped between the table and Alex's chest. "We have to pay rent Alex, and I have dogs. I can’t look after myself, them and the apartment with no job."

"What makes you think we won't be going back?" Alex asked, desperate now. "We've been through worse! Remember when we almost lost the restaurant deed? Or when Sips dropped all that cocaine in the chilli mix? Or-or when Lewis accidentally fed someone poison? We survived all of that!"

"Alex." Ross said, and Alex hated the way Ross managed to keep his voice steady, as if he didn't care. "This is serious. When...If we get shut down, we need another job, unless you want to be homeless."

Alex frowned, opening his mouth to make a retort but was swiftly interrupted by Chris, who had joined them at the table whilst they were arguing.

"Ross is right." Chris said, sitting down in one of the chairs. "We don't know what's going to happen to the restaurant, but we do know that we need to have jobs, it's worth at least looking around."

"Fine." Alex said, folding his arms across his chest and looking between Ross and Chris, the former still typing away with one hand on the keyboard and the other stroking the head of one of his dogs. "But where are we going to find a job that has three openings?"

An awkward silence followed his question and Alex found himself staring in disbelief at Ross and Chris who glanced uncomfortably at each other.

"Unbelievable." he said, more to himself than anyone else, looking at his friends as if they had suddenly grown three heads or had started speaking in tongues. _"Unbelievable."_ he repeated, laughing harshly and backing away from the table, grabbing his bag and jacket from where he had thrown them earlier.

"Alex wait-" Chris said, turning in his chair to look at Alex, but the other didn't hear him, or chose to ignore him because a moment later the front door slammed shut and the room was thrown into silence once more.

Ross looked up a little guiltily from his laptop, eyes trained on the door Alex had just left through. Chris shook his head with a sigh and offered Ross a slight smile, tapping the back of the laptop with his finger. "Find anything?"

 

-

 

Alex sat behind his steering wheel, fingers curled around the rubber and gripping into it as if his life depended on it. His key sat untouched in the ignition and he could see the sky darkening outside the entrance of the parking lot. Never drive when angry, thats what his mother always told him. But then again his mother also always told him that if he didn’t eat his vegetables the dinner witch would get him and that he could always rely on his friends - turns out neither of those are true, so maybe she was wrong all along.

He twisted the key and allowed the engine to roar into life before pulling out of his parking space. The same space Ross had once fallen over in after a night out. He remembered trying to get Ross to his feet but had instead fallen down himself, the two of them staying there until Alex phoned Chris about an hour later.

The trace of a smile tickled his lips but he shook his head almost violently. He was angry god damn it. He was a blazing fire, a twisting hurricane and the roaring wind, manly as hell. He definitely did not stop the car to let a bird fly out of harms way.

Okay maybe once.

Or twice.

Point is, he’s mad. Livid. Angry at his friends for abandoning the best thing thats ever happened to them. Angry at the teenager who ran in front of his car to cross the street to his friends. Angry at the traffic lights that stayed red for what felt like an eternity. Angry at well, everything.

He punched the car’s radio switch and listened to it crackle into life, some generic song by some mainstream band blasting out through the radio and Alex decided he was angry at the music industry too.

A few minutes later and he had settled on _RockheavyAM_ , the intense guitar solo’s and excessive screaming not usually being his thing, but they kept his rage bubbling away inside of him and he even ended up screaming along, sufficiently scaring the old lady with her grocery shopping in the car next to him.

His phone beeped a few times on the passenger seat and Alex spared it a few glances, wondering if Ross or Chris were trying to message him, probably. Assholes.

An hour later, or was it two? Alex lost count after the first twenty miles, his car shuddered, coughed and spluttered beneath him, rolling to a stop in the middle of a deserted road. With a groan he slammed his hands against the wheel, muttering and cursing under his breath. Twisting the key and trying to ignite the engine seemed useless, the fuel gage resting on empty.

“This is all their fault.” He muttered, looking across at his phone. He could call them for help, sure they would mock him for getting stuck all the way out here, but they would help…Eventually. He pondered this for a moment before grabbing his phone and shoving it harshly into his pocket, he didn’t need them. With a grunt he got out of the car and slammed the door shut behind him. The pitch black cloak of night draped itself around him and suddenly he found it hard to breathe, suffocated by the night sky and all her stars. Grimacing he pushed through, swinging the boot open and grabbing the fuel container he had left there after helping Chris with the exact same problem.

Alex sighed, peering into the darkness for the closest sign of civilisation, a gas station would be a godsend right about now. Locking his car behind him he began to walk back the way he came, seeming to remember seeing a petrol stop some miles earlier.

“Fucking fantastic.” he muttered.

 

\---

 

Chris looked down at his phone for what seemed like the hundredth time, still no reply from Alex and from the way Ross’ phone lay undisturbed and quiet next to him, Ross hadn’t had a reply either. Usually he would have calmed down by now, it’s just the way they worked. Sometimes they do argue and doors get slammed, but two hours later and they’re all drinking together again. Like that time when Alex changed the locks to Ross’ apartment as an April Fools joke, forgetting that Ross needed to get home to feed his dogs. Chris smiled a little at the memory of turning up to Ross’ apartment after being left at least a thousand voicemails to find the door had been kicked down and Ross sat with his dogs amongst the wreckage. Or when Ross tricked Chris into thinking that the police were tracking him down for that one coke can Chris had stolen _accidentally_ and had, as Chris recalled actually returned it the minute he realised his mistake. He couldn’t look at a police officer for weeks after that. Either way, they were friends, and friends reply when you’ve texted them.

He could hear Ross shuffling in the kitchen and felt his stomach grumble. He could have gone home hours ago, but he didn’t really feel like being alone and Ross seemed to be keeping a level head, at least on the surface. With a sigh he reached out for Ross’ laptop, dragging it over the table towards him. After a few clicks he found the document where Ross had written out all the possible jobs that were available and fucking hell there were a lot.

_Waiter - Wetherspoons_

**_Camera man - Camden Studios_ **

_Film runner - UnitedJones films_

_Electrician (training given)_

_Cleaner - Broadmeadow Gym_

**_Barista - Starbucks_ **

_Barman - Ship Inn_

_Teaching assistant - BCS_

 

The list went on and on for a few more pages, there seemed to be such a wide variety that Chris doubted if Ross was even looking properly. Some of the listings were in bold and Chris couldn’t figure out why. He frowned as he studied the screen, lost in such concentration that he didn’t hear Ross come back into the room carrying two coffee mugs.

“Pizza man should be here soon.” Ross said, placing one of the mugs down next to Chris and cradling his own in his palms. Ross flicked the TV on and the pair enjoyed a few minutes of comfortable silence before the doorbell rang. They both rose from their chairs quickly, the same question on their minds as they crossed the room towards the door, swinging it open with a grin that faltered the minute the pizza man came in to view.

Non Alex handed them their pizza, took his money and quickly left. Probably annoyed at having to deliver so late. They sat back down, silently digging in to the pizza and a few more minutes passed before Ross turned to face Chris, a question on his lips that he had clearly been waiting to ask for a long time “Have you heard from Alex?” he said.

Chris shook his head, lifting his mug up to his lips and Ross sighed, sitting down in one of the chairs at the corner of the table. “He’s probably fine.” Ross said. “It’s late, I bet he’s gone to bed or something and we’ll hear from him in the morning.”

Chris nodded, Ross was probably right, it was already way past midnight and he was itching for his own bed.

“Want to crash here?” Ross asked, kicking his shoes off.

“Nah.” Chris said with a yawn. “I should probably get back, my bed misses me.”

Ross chuckled lightly “Alright then, let me know if you get hold of Alex yeah?”

“Will do!” Chris chimed, grabbing his bag and giving Ross a mock salute as he stepped out into the apartment building’s hallway. “See you tomorrow mate!”

 

\--

 

He liked the wind, air in general was really quite nice, like oxygen. Oxygen is good. Keeps him alive, that would be a great superhero, Oxygenman. Dressed like a scuba diver, y’know, cause they have the oxygen tanks on their backs. Oxygen is better than friends. Oxygen doesn’t give up on jobs, it doesn’t go out looking for new jobs without it’s friends Nitrogen and Carbon, Oxygen is great. Alex wishes he was oxygen. Or like, a wolf or something. Wolves have packs, they stick together. He was a lone wolf. A lone oxygen wolf.

He wondered if he had gone insane.

Probably.

Alex had been walking for a good forty minutes, finding nothing but trees, a discarded wheel and at one point even a fox. But no petrol station. He was tired, the anger draining out of his bones without the excessive screaming music to keep his blood boiled, leaving him feeling quite empty. His phone buzzed a few more times in his pocket but his pride kept him from reaching in. He just hoped that by the time he got back they would have seen the error of their ways. _If_ he got back.

His mind wandered back to thinking about the wonders of Oxygen, barely noticing when a small building came into view around a corner. He blinked a few times, wondering if perhaps he was experiencing one of those…What were they called? Mirages? Yeah, a mirage thing. Upon closer inspection he could see several petrol pumps standing like gods in the driveway and Alex could have fainted, rushing over with his can and almost knee sliding across the tarmac in his haste. He lifted the nozzle and immediately began to spray the petrol into his cannister, realizing for the first time what a satisfying noise it made as it sloshed around inside. Once his can was full he rushed inside, almost barreling into an artistic display of Strongbow cans as he made a beeline for the cashier. She looked curiously at him, brushing her long brown hair to one side and allowing Alex to catch his breath before clearing her throat and reading out the cost for the petrol. Alex palmed his pockets for his wallet, plucking out his credit card with a sense of accomplishment and slotting it into the machine with a distorted grin.

“Did you come all the way from up Naylan Road?” she asked, catching Alex off guard, he hadn’t expected conversation.

“Uh, I think so.” He said, looking nervously out of the window. It had only just occurred to him that he actually had no idea where he was.

She smiled at him knowingly, her slightly age wrinkled eyes twinkling. “What are you running from?” she asked almost casually. “Cashback?”

Alex looked up at her, his hand dropping from punching in his pin as he peered at her. “What?” he asked, tightening his fingers around the cannister. “How did you...No cashback please.”

She smiled again, pressing something on her till with a shrug. “My husband and I have been running this petrol station for seventeen years. Theres nothing up that road, just miles and miles of endless nothingness that eventually comes to a small field that has nothing in it but rabbits and disease. Remove your card please.”

Alex stood silently for a moment, staring at her in confusion. His brain finally caught up to his hand and he removed his card, slipping it back into his wallet.

“The only people that ever go up there do it because they don’t know where they’re going or where to run to. They drive for so long that they forget why they're running. They always end up here, just like you. Fuel cannister in one hand and a wallet in the other.” She said, pushing the receipt across the counter towards Alex. “So what are you running from?”

 

Alex frowned, glancing down at the woman's name tag. Helen. For some reason he seemed to trust her, though that might have something to do with his lack of human contact since he left Ross’ apartment. “My friends.” He said, nervously passing the cannister to his other hand. “We’ve all worked together for years, but suddenly they want to move on and leave one of the main things that held us together behind.”

“Ah.” She said sympathetically. “I’ve heard that one before. Young lad just like you, wanted to make dirt or something. His friend was helping him out but one day decided to move on and open a restaurant.”

“What did he do?” Alex asked, the cannister growing too heavy in his hands for him to want to carry it any longer. He gently placed it down on the floor and looked back up at the woman.

“He moved on.” She said. “Last I saw him he was doing all sorts...I’m still not sure what his actual job is, but he’s happy. Y’know what the best part is though?”

“What?” He said, scratching his beard as she spoke.

“The lad and his young friend? They're still friends. Always will be. He even helps out with the restaurant from time to time.” She said, pausing for a moment and ripping out a piece of paper from a notebook underneath the counter. “Sometimes moving on doesn’t mean leaving things behind. Plus, y’never know, maybe everything will work out with this job of yours after all. If that’s where you’re all meant to be, that’s where you’ll end up.”

Alex nodded in understanding, watching as Helen scribbled something on the paper. “Here.” she said. “Take this.”

“What is it?” He asked, taking the paper from her and inspecting the numbers written on it.

“It’s the number of that lad, can’t remember his name. He left it with us when he went back out to find his car, seemed to think he might get lost and need our help. Which he did. Three times. In half an hour.”

Alex chuckled, tucking the number into his pocket and bending over to pick up his cannister. “Thank you.” he said, and he meant it.

“Don’t you worry dear.” She smiled. “Is your car far from here? Gerald can give you a lift down if you like.”

“Oh no, I’ll be fine-” Alex began to say, but was interrupted by a wave of Helen’s hand.

“GERALD.” She yelled, and a middle aged man popped his head out from the staff room. He took one look at Alex and sighed, grabbing his keys. “This is the fourth time this week!” He cried. “I should start up a taxi service.”

 

\--

Ross twisted and turned in his bed, unable to get to sleep. He was never any good it but tonight was worse than usual, what with the inspection going so horribly wrong, having to get a new job and Alex storming out, Ross couldn’t wind down enough to even consider a good nights rest. He sat up in bed and switched his lamp on, rubbing his face roughly with his hands.

His phone vibrated softly on his desk and Ross blindly reached out for it, knocking it on the floor by accident and slipping down to the floor himself rather than bothering to pick it up. Instead of the text from Alex he was expecting it was an email from one of the places he had applied to have an interview with. Groaning audibly he threw his head back to rest against the bed. He hadn’t told either Chris or Alex that he has already started applying, he knew they wouldn’t take that kindly. Especially not Alex, especially not before they even knew the future of Chilli Wowa’s. He sat there in the darkness of his room tapping out a reply to the email before dragging his pillows and duvet down to the floor with him, finding it far too much effort to get back up on his bed, no matter how uncomfortable the floor was in comparison.

 

\--

 

Alex stood next to his car, waving goodbye to Gerald as his truck retreated back towards the petrol station. The journey had been relatively silent, but he did learn that Gerald was an avid golfer and had grown up in London with five brothers and three sisters, one of which whom could recite the Titanic’s screenplay by heart. The more you know.

Once the truck had completely disappeared he turned back to his newly fuelled car and chucked the empty cannister back in the boot and opened the door, slipping back into the car with a newfound sense of calm and accomplishment. He shoved his hand into his pocket to find his phone so he could put it back on the passenger seat but his fingers instead brushed against the crinkled edge of some paper. Wrapping his fingers around it he pulled it out and straightened it against the dashboard. The scribbled numbers looked familiar but he couldn’t quite place them. After a moment's contemplation he grabbed his phone and tapped in the number, frowning when the numbers automatically formed into a contact he already had in his phone. Alex shrugged, pressing the call button as he held his phone up to his ear. It wouldn’t be the first time his phone had confused him.

 

 _“Lo’...?”_ A sleepy voice answered on the fifth ring. _“You got any idea how late it is?”_

Fuck. Alex thought, glancing down at the clock on his dashboard. He had completely forgotten that normal people would be asleep at this time. Normally he would apologize straight away, but something about the sleepy voice niggled at his brain with it’s familiarity.

 _“Hello?”_ The voice said again. _“Is anyone there?”_

 _“Oh, Um, yeah sorry to bother you but...Wait, Sips is that you?”_ Alex asked, frowning at the number on the piece of paper, he had definitely put the right number in.

 _“No it’s the queen.”_ The now irritated voice said. _“Of course it’s me you dungus, what do you want?”_

Alex looked at his phone for a moment, unable to think of something to say.

 _“It’s Alex.”_ He said eventually, and he could hear Sips groan through the connection.

 _“I know.”_ Sips said. _“Your fucking face showed up on my phone when you called me at three in the morning.”_

 _“Oh.”_ Alex said, crumpling the paper in his hand.

 _“Is that everything? Did you just need me to confirm who you are? Because I really want to go back to bed.”_ Sips groaned, and Alex could imagine him spread eagled across his bed in his striped pajamas with those ridiculous bunny slippers and glaring into the phone waiting for Alex to respond.

Alex could hear Sips shuffling as if he was about to hang up and he panicked. _“Helen!”_ he shouted and Sips went silent on the other end. _“I spoke to Helen.”_ Alex continued. _“She...she told me to call this number, which apparently is yours.”_

 _“Helen? From the petrol station?”_ Sips asked. _“Aw fuck man! How is she? Does Gerald still have that old truck?”_

_“Yeah, Sips listen, she told me to phone you about uh, well..”_

_“Well what?”_

_“You and...Paul I guess? When you drove all the way out here after he and Lewis opened the restaurant.”_

Sips was silent for a moment, he never had been comfortable with people knowing too much about his personal life. _“Yeah.”_ Was all he said.

_“Well, The sames sort of happening to me… Ross and Chris are moving on from the restaurant and I-”_

_“What? Why?”_ Sips interrupted.

_“The restaurant might get shut down...Our inspection was shit.”_

_“Are you kidding me? Lewis and Paul are idiots yeah, but they worked so hard on that place.”_

_“The inspector gave us three strikes, he was talking to Lewis and Paul, they might still be talking now but-_ ”

The phone beeped as Sips hung up and Alex looked down at his phone in surprise for a moment, maybe he had gone back to sleep? Alex shrugged, putting his phone down on the passenger seat and realizing only now how tired he actually was. With dreams of his bed in his mind he turned the key and smiled as the engine purred beneath him. Homeward bound!

 

\--

Chris awoke to his phone beeping softly, a sleepy eyed squint to the clock on the wall told him it was only nine am. With a yawn he reached out for his phone, unlocking it and feeling an immediate sense of relief when he saw a message from Alex.

 

_**Alex Smith 9:00** _

_Hey Trotty boy. We’re meeting up, Ross suggested the park. Be there in 30 mins_

 

Chris smiled, reading the message again. Of course Ross suggested the park, more witnesses that way.

Half an hour later Chris was showered, dressed and almost at the park, pulling his earphones out and shoving them into his pockets. By the looks of it, he was the first of them to arrive. The park currently only occupied by a jogger, a few dog walkers and one couple with a pram. With a slight yawn he sat down on one of the benches, enjoying the peace that he rarely got to experience, what with living in Bristol and all. Peace doesn’t last forever, he knows that, but he can at least hope that it’ll last a little longer and that (fingers crossed) Ross and Alex don’t tear each others heads off. Since when was he the responsible one?

Alex arrived a few minutes later, sitting down next to Chris and looking across at his friend. “I’m sorry I ran out like that last night.” He said. “I just-”

Chris held up his hand to stop him from talking and turned to him with a smile. “It’s alright, I know.”

Alex smiled back, he had barely slept but something about being back with his friends made him feel alive again.

“Now move over you twat.” Chris said with a grin, easily slipping back into their old routine. “You’re taking up the whole bench.”

“Fight me for it.” Alex laughed, deliberately spreading his legs out to take up more space.

“You are just the worst kind of person.” Chris chuckled, kicking at Alex’s leg. “Don’t forget I have a black belt!”

“Yeah, but you wouldn’t hurt me, I’m too cuddly and sweet.” Alex winked and Chris rolled his eyes.

Ten minutes passed before Ross appeared, carrying something under his arm and walking with some sense of trepidation. He came to a halt in front of the bench and something about the expression on Ross’ face made Chris shudder.

“What are those?” Alex asked almost carefully, nodding to the stack of leaflets under Ross’ arm. Ross looked down at them as if he had forgotten they were there and shrugged. “Oh, nothing, just some things.” He said, adjusting his grip on them to one that was more comfortable. “You guys alright? What did you want to meet up for?”

Alex narrowed his eyes at him in suspicion but nethertheless cleared his throat. “Well, after a long drive and some very good advice I’ve realized that I overreacted the other day. If, after the verdict on Monday, the restaurant is no more I will support whatever career choice you guys make. Can we just...wait though? It’s only Thursday, we don’t even know what’s going to happen to the restaurant yet.”

Chris nodded next to him, patting him on the back. “Sure thing man, nothing’s set in stone. Right Ross?”

Ross was silent.

“Ross?” Chris asked again, looking up at his friend who shuffled uncomfortably on his feet.

“About that…” Ross said, hating the way his friends were looking at him with something akin to hurt in their eyes. “I kind of have a job.”

Alex rose slowly, choosing to look at the stack of papers in Ross’ arms rather than his face. The very air around them was unbearably tense. He reached forwards, roughly tugging one of the leaflets from the stack and inspecting the title.

“Starbucks?” He said. _“Starbucks?”_ dropping the brightly coloured leaflet advertising the newest branch as if it burnt him.

“I had an interview this morning.” Ross said, he had about a few inches on Alex, but somehow he still felt smaller. “They hired me straight away. I start tomorrow.”

“But Starbucks?” Alex repeated. “You hate Starbucks!”

“I also hate not being able to pay rent. Or feed my dogs. Or feed myself.” Ross said. “I panicked okay? They offered me a job and I took it.”

“What about the restaurant?” Chris , standing up too, ready to step in between Ross and Alex if push comes to shove.

Ross sighed. “The restaurant was great and all, but that’s over now. It’s done. There’s nothing we can do. It’s time to move on.”

Alex felt an undying urge to push Ross, to knock the leaflets out of his hand and knock some sense into him. But he wasn’t six anymore. Violence wouldn’t solve anything. _“Starbucks…”_ He muttered under his breath, still unable to believe it.

“I have to go.” Ross said, taking a slight step backwards. “I need to hand all these out before tomorrow.”

Alex glared at him, unable to form the sentences he so badly wanted to say. “Fine.” he eventually managed, though it wasn’t fine. It wasn’t fine at all. Ross smiled tightly at both of them before quickly setting off back down the path.

“Well…” Chris said, watching the retreating form of Ross. “That happened.”

 

\--

It was Saturday. Two days, four hours and approximately eighteen minutes since Ross had dropped his bombshell at the park. Alex hadn’t left Chris’ apartment since, not that Chris particularly minded. He did live closer to the park after all and one of his windows had a pretty good view of the high street that led to the new Starbucks, Primark and all those other places.  If Chris found it weird that Alex would sit in front of that window for hours waiting for a glimpse of Ross just so he could glare at him some more, he didn’t say anything, probably a wise move.

Chris didn’t really know what to do with himself. Ross was busy at work, Alex was busy furiously mashing potatoes (Which Chris didn’t understand because they weren’t even having potatoes that night) and he himself had nothing left to do. He thought of maybe checking up on Lewis and Paul but decided he didn’t really want to hear about the fate of the restaurant just yet. He even tried ringing Sips, but he supposed his phone must be off because the line kept dropping.

He sighed, not used to having so little to do. He could vaguely hear Alex in the kitchen beginning to mutter to himself as he mashed and Chris remembered that the first sign of insanity was talking to yourself. But then again Alex wasn’t exactly talking to himself, he was talking to the potatoes. Chris couldn’t decide which was worst.

Flicking the T.V. on he collapsed into his sofa, settling on the first film he could find which just so happened to be one of the only Disney films he could tolerate. The Fox and the Hound. Alex never really cared for it, but he knew that Ross loved it, even if he would never admit it. Chris grinned, turning to his right side to share a joke with Ross only to find the sofa empty. Ross was at his fancy new job, not sitting watching old Disney movies next to him like they used to. Moments later the ‘Best of friends’ song began to play through Chris’ surround sound as the animated animals ran around on the screen and Chris could hear how Alex had stopped muttering in the kitchen, the first few bars of the song resurfacing memories he had never recalled before.

Chris watched the animated characters with a lazy grin on his face. They had mocked Ross for days when they heard him humming that song at work.

_When you're the best of friends_

_Sharing all that you discover_

_When that moment has past, will that friendship last?_

 

“Turn that shit off.” Alex shouted from the other room and Chris obliged, switching the program to Total Wipeout, that’ll take the edge off.

His Xbox controller lay on the table a few inches away from him, just begging to be used and his console seemed to stare desperately at him, but Chris didn’t feel like playing anything. Alex had started his muttering again and Chris sighed, digging his phone out of the depths of his pocket and scrolling through his contact list. He chewed nervously on his lower lip as his finger tip hovered over the name he had called so many times before. Fuck it, he thought, tapping the green call button.

 _“Ross?”_ He asked with a trace of surprise in his tone. _“I didn’t think you’d pick up.”_

 _“Well I’m on my break.”_ Ross said. _“Is everything okay? Is Alex-”_

 _“Still mad?”_ Chris finished for him. _“Yeah.”_

There was silence for a moment, someone in the background of wherever Ross was laughed and he could faintly hear the remnants of a conversation Ross had obviously been a part of before Chris had phoned him. A thick, heavy weight seemed to press down on Chris’ chest and he couldn’t figure out what it was. His next words escaping his lips in a tone that sounded sharp and clipped without Chris meaning it to.

 _“Well."_ he said. _“I can tell you’re busy, I won’t keep you any longer.”_

 _“Wait!”_ Ross said, shushing someone that must have been talking next to him and Chris could hear the smile in his friends tone, as if someone had made him laugh. Chris hung up the phone then and placed a hand over his chest, realising then what the weight was.

Jealousy.

He frowned, looking at his phone as if it had bitten him or as if it were his phones fault that he was jealous of what seemed to be the voices of Ross’ new friends. Maybe he could sue Apple for his Iphone causing him such emotional stress. Chris couldn’t figure out quite why he hated Ross’ new friends, though if he had to hazard a guess it might be just because he remembered how things used to be. Back in the days when he was set nervously on the bed in his dorm room at University waiting to meet his roommate for the first time, praying to whatever god was listening that he wouldn’t be some sports obsessed douchebag double ended dildo and Ross walked into the room, black backpack on his shoulder and a blue suitcase trailing behind him. Ross had smiled at him, his smile as nervous as Chris felt. Neither of them knew anybody else and for the first few days it was just them, comparing camera’s, playing Call of Duty and eating pizza into the early hours of the morning. He remembered the first time Alex had come to visit, remembered how nervous Ross had been because he had never been great at meeting new people and he had already used all of his energy and charm on his classmates. Chris remembered thinking it might be awkward, especially since Ross’ plans with Andy and a few others from their class to go to the cinema fell through at the last minute and Ross had ended up hanging out with Chris until Alex arrived. He remembered being proved wrong, Alex and Ross getting on like a house on fire almost immediately, remembered Alex straight away suggesting that Ross should come with them when they went out, remembered the three of them sitting on the floor, knocking knees with each other in the small room as they played video games. They all had other friends, yes. They even still kept in touch with a lot of them, but for a long time it was just them. The three musketeers. Everyone at the university had at least heard about them. Professors would roll their eyes when they heard that Alex was visiting, muttering “Here we go again…” under their breath before laughing.  They even all moved into the same house after University, meeting someone in a bar one day who told them to call him ‘Sips’ even though his real name was Chris and being invited to a poker game where they not only lost almost all their money to Sips (And Ross had lost his shirt to a guy called Duncan who kept calling it ‘Space Poker’) but also met Lewis and Paul, plus a couple of their other friends.

Point is, they were a team, a unit. But the only contact either of them had had with Ross in the whole two days, four hours and now approximately twenty-six minutes was that brief phone call in which Ross spent half of talking to whoever it was that was clearly more important.

Maybe he was overthinking this, they might not have even been Ross’ friends, just random, loud customers that wouldn’t shut up and Chris felt a pang of sympathy for Ross if that was the case. A lot of the customers in Starbucks always seemed to be quite rude to the barista’s. But then again Ross deserved it for being a deserter.

Ross had gotten off easy, Chris thought to himself. Back in the day deserters were shot. Now he was just serving ridiculously overpriced drinks to teenagers and business folk running around accidentally whacking people with their briefcases.

He stared blankly at the television for a moment, watching as the competitors kept bouncing off into the water below and swimming to the ladders to give it another go. He had to admire their perseverance. With a sigh Chris pulled himself up off the sofa and padded into the kitchen where Alex was mashing the potatoes with new fervour, they weren’t even recognisable as potatoes anymore, more like white goop, like ghost jizz or something.

“You alright?” Chris asked, leaning up against the counter and folding his arms across his chest. Alex nodded, his shoulder muscles tensing as he finally lay the potato masher to rest next to the bowl. “Yeah.” he said. “I’m great, positively dandy.” It wasn’t like Alex to be this angry about, well, anything, but then again nothing like this had really happened before.

(Well, there was that one time when Chris had tried to join a dance crew instead of going to ‘Monday Multiplayer night.’ But we don’t talk about that.

Ever.)

 

“I tried to call Ross.” Chris said, and Alex turned around, a hopeful look appearing on his face before he quickly masked it with an expression of nonchalance. “Did he say anything?” Alex asked, mirroring Chris’ stance.

“Not really, he was busy.” Chris said, Alex nodded, smiling curtly as he had hadn’t expected anything different.

“This is stupid.” Chris said after a pause. “All of this. The strikes, Ross leaving, your potatoes. All of it.”

Alex looked up at him, pursing his lips together as he frowned. “What do you mean?”

“None of this should matter half as much as we’re making it out, none of it. The whole path that led us here is just….Stupid.” Chris sighed, running a hand through his hair in distress. “I dunno man...I guess I just thought we were always going to be the ‘Three Musketeers’ you know? And the restaurant...It just seemed like the jobs were made for us. But that’s stupid too.”

Alex paused for a moment, looking at Chris as if he had just pulled a golden chicken out of his ass and the chicken had coughed up the key for a door he had been waiting two days, four hours and approximately 32 minutes to open. His eyebrows furrowed together as his memory knitted together the kindly face of the woman at the petrol station, messing around with a notebook as she spoke.

 

_“Sometimes moving on doesn’t mean leaving things behind. Plus, y’never know, maybe everything will work out with this job of yours after all. If that’s where you’re all meant to be, that’s where you’ll end up.”_

_  
_

“If that’s where you’re all meant to be, that’s where you’ll end up.” Alex almost whispered, a strange grin tugging at his lips. Chris blinked at him, frowning in confusion “What?” he asked, thinking maybe he had misheard. Alex ignored him and left the kitchen with confident steps, the bowl of potatoes completely forgotten, Chris hurrying after him.

“Still think all this is stupid?” Alex said, turning to Chris with a sly smile and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. A look Chris knew all too well. A look which meant that Alex had had a ‘brilliant’ idea and one that usually ended up in someone getting hurt. That someone usually being Chris.

“Where are you going?” Chris asked, coming to a halt by his sofa as Alex strolled across the room, picking up his bag and jacket as he went. He paused by the front door, turning to look at Chris with a wide grin.

“To do something stupid.” he said, winking and slamming the door shut behind him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the link to the song from The Fox and the Hound if you wanted it! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-CMejecRpWI  
> (ITS SUPER CHEESY I KNOW BUT I LOVE IT)
> 
> Any and all comments welcome and wanted! :)


	4. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“It’s like...Like my two best friends are on two different boats and they’re like...I dunno, viking ships or something and I’m just standing at the dock waving my handkerchief and I just want those two ships to merge back into one ship. Like..Uh, you know that scene in Titanic when it sinks because it’s split in two and- wait. Do you think the ship sunk because it was no longer whole? The two asshole pieces that held it together fell apart from each other and the ship just sank. Like, maybe they are the pieces and I’m the...The..I’m Rose. Because I’m just chilling on my plank of wood or whatever it was because seriously fuck that ship it’s it’s own damn fault for sinking in the first place.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow I'm so sorry this chapter took a lot longer than I expected, I just really wanted to make it special since it was the final chapter. I spent a ridiculous amount of time on it good lord.
> 
> That being said I really hoped you enjoyed this, and thank you so much for the continuous support, it's really meant a lot to me! I had a lot of fun with this, so I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> As always my tumblr is right here (http://holibaehornby.tumblr.com/) It's a totally rad place so you should probably go there
> 
> Thank you all for reading :)

The small room was illuminated only by the glow of a single lamp that sat quietly, as lamps often do, on a table in the corner. A large mahogany table took up most of the space, the sturdy wooden legs resting on a thick red carpet. There were so many folders and pieces of paper strewn carelessly across the table that the dark wood surface could no longer be seen. Lewis and Paul were sat on one side of the table in rickety wooden chairs that looked as if they might give way any minute. Paul sat with his head in his hands. Reading and rereading the eviction notice in front of him. Lewis opened his mouth wordlessly, staring almost desperately at the man sitting opposite him.

“Mark...Please…” Lewis whispered as if he wanted to spare Paul the torment of having to hear it all over again. Lewis clenched his fists under the table and Mark sighed, glancing hopefully at the large oak door on the other side of the room. He hadn’t been allowed to leave the room above the restaurant since he had first headed up there four days ago. The clock hanging on a broken nail above the door signalled that they only had ten hours to go until Monday struck. He looked down at the dismal report in front of him, the very report he needed to hand in to his superiors when he went back into work on Monday.

“I’m sorry.” Mark said. “I really am.” He shuffled uncomfortably in his chair. He was exhausted and good god he really needed a shower, they all did. From the other side of the table Paul muttered something incoherently and slammed his head down against the table. The echoing dull thud of skull against wood made Mark wince and he looked down at his hands. He really did hate this part of his job. “You need to sign here.” he said after a heavy silence, pulling the eviction notice out from under Pauls unmoving face and pointing to the bottom of the page. “And you need to be out by the end of Monday.”

Slowly Lewis lifted the pen, resting his free hand on Pauls back in a reassuring gesture. The black ink pen hovered over the dotted line before Lewis dropped in to the paper. Just as he began to twist his wrist to create his stupidly complicated signature the large oak door was almost propelled off its hinges. A familiar figure stood godlike in the doorway, stepping into the room with a confidence that suggested he owned the place.

“Drop that pen!” Sips shouted, sweeping his arms across the table sending the papers flying. “I can’t let you do this.”

“Excuse me…” Mark began, standing up from his chair and opening his mouth to continue. But Sips rounded on him, pointing an accusing figure in his direction.

“Don’t start with me buster brown!” Sips spat. “I have just been in a traffic jam for forty minutes and you _do not_ want to mess with me.” He said, narrowing his eyes and focusing a glare so intense at Mark that the other man sank back down wordlessly into his chair, looking across at the other two for some kind of explanation.

Lewis and Paul looked as if Jesus had just descended from the heavens with fruit baskets filled with money and a halo made of dreams. Lewis put the pen down next to his unfinished signature. “What are you doing here?” Paul asked, lifting and massaging his head from where he had slammed it against the table.

“Alex told me about this joker.” Sips said, thrusting his thumb in Mark’s direction. “I’m the only one allowed to ruin this place round here.”

Sips stood tall over the table, arms folded across his chest. “Whatever it takes I won’t let Mr Solid Snake over here take this shitty restaurant.”

 _What does that even mean?_ Mark thought to himself, the beginnings of a headache throbbing against his temple. He flipped open a folder, checking through the contents as if they might give him some kind of explanation for all this nonsense. Halfway down page 46 he found something that caught his eye. A small photograph and a couple of paragraphs resting underneath it. He looked back up with a frown. Glancing between the photo and the man in front of him for a moment before his lips formed into a question.

“Are you Chris Lovaz? Otherwise known as uh... ‘Sips’?” He asked and Sips froze, narrowing his eyes further. “Just Sips.” He said. “What’s it to you restaurant killer?”

Mark broke into a grin. “So you’re the guy who built the sludge tank that blew up on Ross and I?”

Sips stiffened, glancing back at Lewis who just shrugged at him. Mark continued to read further down the page. His grin slipping off his face as his eyebrows knitted together into a frown. “It says here that you once dropped some... _fucking hell._ ” He mouthed the last part, looking back up at Sips. “You once dropped some _cocaine_ into the Chilli mix??”

The room fell into a deeply uncomfortable silence, the only sound being the dull thud as Paul slammed his head back down into the table. Mark shook his head speechlessly, if only for the moment. “I have to give this report into my boss...You’re looking at some serious jail time for this.”

Sips just stared at him, his heroic and daring rescue not going at all as planned. Lewis let his head fall into his hands and Mark chewed nervously on his lower lip, he really needed a pay rise after all of this crap. Or at least a really good shower. A really fucking good shower.

Lewis lifted the pen once more. His hand shaking slightly as the tip rested over his half finished signature but before he could even think about continuing something hard slammed against the door and tore it off its hinges. The door dropped with a loud clatter to the floor, taking yet another familiar figure with it.

“Oh...It wasn’t locked.” Alex groaned from the floor, using the edge of the table to pull himself up. He shook his head as if regaining his composure and his frantic gaze rested on Lewis’ pen. With a yelp he vaulted himself across the table, knocking the pen out of his hand. “You can’t do- oh my god what the hell is that smell?” he mouthed, lifting his hand to cover his nose from the odorous man stench that drifted in thick layers around the room.

“Oh for fuck sake.” Mark muttered.

\----

“Get me a large double caramel frosted coconut gingerbread coffee but without the coffee and a shot of pumpkin spice with soy milk, and quickly. I’m in a hurry.”

Ross forced a tight smile. Wondering if the Balrog had taught this woman manners as he dug his fingers into the plastic cup, trying his hardest not to crush it in his fist. The ever so polite woman must be in her thirties Ross thought, tailing her young son behind her who seemed intent on messing up the napkin display. “Name please?” he asked, punching some buttons on the till before picking up the sharpie and gripping it in between his fingers.

“Elaine.” she drawled as if it were the worlds greatest god given name and she was destined to save the universe by ordering one ridiculously complicated drink at a time.

Ross forced out another smile before scrawling her name into the plastic. He moved to the side to start making the drink as his colleague took over the till. Ryan or something his name was. He had been working here for so long that behind the false smile was the desperate pleading look of a dead man. It gave Ross the chills to see that look in his eyes.

Apart from the customers, his colleagues, the atmosphere, the place, the drinks, the prices, the music, the lighting, the colour scheme, the noise levels, the pictures on the walls and the smell. It wasn’t so bad.

“Just two more hours mate!” Leslie said, swanning past him to use the machine thingy that steams the milk.

“Can you taste that freedom?” Dan grinned, popping back up at the counter laden with empty trays, plates and glasses. Ross blinked, a strange, nauseous feeling of Deja Vu washing over him. “It tastes like Chilli’s.” he said instinctively, but his coworkers didn’t appear to hear him. He shook the thought out of his head and got back to making the drink that was so ridiculous that Ross hoped it held the cure to cancer or something. But one thing he couldn’t shake off was the feeling that someone was watching him.

Chris glared at the busy street in front of him, not for the first time that day contemplating banging his head against the wall in frustration. He probably looked really suspicious standing opposite Starbucks in an oversized hoodie, partially hidden in an alleyway. Every so often he would see Ross through the glass window panes and he wondered why on Gods green earth he was hiding in an alleyway, this wasn’t his plan at all! He came down here to talk to Ross, and maybe get a coffee whilst he was at it, but he fell at the last hurdle. That strange, unwelcome feeling in his chest had bounced back when he saw Ross’ co workers. Chris hated it, he’s never once cared before about what friends his friends have but somehow this was different.

He shoved his hands into the large pockets of his hoodie and leant back against the cool brick wall behind him, wondering what to do next. Alex hadn’t been gone long, but he wasn’t picking up his phone so Chris didn’t even know where he was, so he couldn’t exactly go gallivanting off to join him. He felt like the hero in a really shitty alpha game that hadn’t had its plot or story implemented, wandering around with no direction, or there was some kind of bug where he was trapped in one section for eternity. But video game bugs are easily fixed, real life bugs? Not so much.  Sadly you can’t just cheat in answers. Or shoot your problems with a rocket launcher. Or protect yourself with a force field. Real life is like playing on hardcore mode, one life, don’t fuck it up.

Through the window panes he could see Ross laughing at something someone had said and without realizing it, the next thing he knew was that he was stood inside the too bright coffee shop and had joined the stupidly long queue. He didn’t know what otherworldly force had brought him to this moment but he couldn’t turn around now, Ross had already seem him.

 _“I think he’s a drug dealer.”_ Someone making a mango smoothie whispered to another worker, not even trying to hide the dirty look she was sending Chris. _“I went outside ten minutes ago to clear up and he was just stood in the alleyway.”_

Ross blinked, clearly overhearing this hushed conversation and sent Chris a confused look, the cogs in his brain trying to figure out the answer to a very simple puzzle. Chris moved forwards in the line, pointedly trying to look anywhere but at Ross.

“Chris?” Ross said, and Chris soon realized that he was at the front of the queue. The gossips behind Ross fell silent and looked across at them, clearly listening to every word.

“Oh hey!” Chris said, waving his hands in the air in what could only be described as panic. “Fancy seeing you here! Totally forgot you were working here, boy it’s been a long time! Alex? Oh he’s fine. He’s great, never seen him so happy! It’s not as if he broke two of my mugs and threw a copy of the Fox and the Hound out the window only to run down and retreive it a minute later.”

Ross blinked wordlessly and one of his coworkers stifled a giggle, turning back to making the smoothie and muttering something about getting high off your own supply. Chris hated her.

“I’ll have a coffee please.” Chris said. Folding his arms across his chest as he regained himself, he wasn’t going to leave without answers. “And when is your break?”

Chris sat silently at one of the small two seater tables. Sipping his coffee and occasionally switching his gaze from the clock to the counter. Mango smoothie girl kept looking over at him and laughing. Not even hiding the fact she was clearly making jokes about him and his ‘obvious’ drug profession. If he wasn’t so intent on glaring holes into her head, he might have seen the way Ross’s fingers clenched around the creaking plastic of the cup in his hand, he might have heard the muttered remark Ross spat that quickly made mango smoothie girl shut up and turn away, face reddening at an alarming rate.

Ross’ break started ten minutes after that, he collapsed into the chair opposite Chris, hands curled around the mug of tea he had made for himself. The two shared silence for a while, Chris all too aware of mango smoothie girls eyes on them.

“I see Alex didn’t want to join you here…” Ross said for lack of anything else to say.

“Alex is gone.” Chris said, and regretted it immediately from the look on Ross’ face. “No! Not like gone gone. He left a few hours ago, seemed to think he could fix this.”

Ross snorted at that, panicked expression melting into one of mild humour. “Is there really anything to fix?”

Chris let his next words die on his lips. The kindling's of fire blazing in his chest and shining in his eyes. “Ross.” he said evenly, pushing the half finished coffee cup away from him as if it hurt to taste. “You’re one of my best friends and I wouldn’t change that for the world. But you can be dense as fuck sometimes.”

Ross opened his mouth as if to protest but the look in Chris’ eyes was enough to stop him. The smaller man looked on the verge of outburst, wobbling on the edge of rage. A lion in a cage Ross really didn’t want to fuck with.

“Take a look around.” Chris said, gesturing wildly at the coffee shop. “Take a look at yourself! What about _any_ of this _doesn’t_ need fixing? Alex. One of your _best friends_ can’t stand to look at you and as much as he tries to deny it he’s fooling no one. He misses you Ross. And if I know you as well as I do you don’t want to be here as much as we don’t want you to be here. Alex is being a sullen little man child and I can’t get through to him but for fuck sake Ross, you’re better than this! Grow the balls up and stop looking for a plan B in everything!” he was yelling now, he knew it. Ross was shrinking away from him, the entire shop was staring, mango smoothie girl was filming this all on her iPhone.

“Chris-” Ross began, hating this. The yelling, the attention, the filming. But mostly he hated how Chris was kind of right.

Chris waved him off, an unstoppable force by now. He had reigned in this outburst since day one and though he’s never usually one for violence, he can’t help it now. Once he starts that’s it, woe be to whomever gets in his way. “No Ross, you aren’t going to explain your way out of this one. I get it, you're worried. You have pets to look after, yourself to look after. But you need to stop this plan B bullshit. You don’t get plan B’s in everything okay!? This is life. Real life. There isn’t a restart button, there are no checkpoints you can go back to if you fuck up. You’re always one to say how bad life can be, how messed up the world is. But you know what? You know who was there through every up and down? Who was there by your side to watch the world burn down? We were. All we had was each other and you want to know why Alex is mad? Because you don't seem to see that! You don’t see that and you just don’t care anymore. Life may be shit and restaurants might get closed down. But never. Never. Not once in all the years we’ve been friends has this happened. You can’t keep turning away like this Ross, because one day you might turn away and we won’t be there anymore.”

Ross croaked out something quietly, but Chris didn’t hear it. He rose like fire and stormed away from the table, every inch of his body shaking violently as he stomped across the coffee shop, grabbing mango smoothie girls phone as he went and hurling it against the wall before pushing the door open wildly and escaping outside, not stopping until he got around the corner, collapsing against a rough brick wall and allowing his body to shake, allowing angry tears to roll down his cheeks. He never usually cried either, seemed like this was a day of firsts. Slowly his breathing returned to normal and the fire died in his eyes, leaving only the traces of ash that fell through his fingers like stardust. A wave of regret, of guilt washed over him and he wanted to go back, but it was too late now. He let out a deep sigh that shuddered through his entire body and he sank to the ground, elbows propped on his knees and head in his hands. He hadn’t meant a lot of what he said. Well, maybe he did. But he certainly never meant to threaten Ross with the thought that one day he and Alex might not always be there with him. He felt sick at the thought, the three musketeers. Best friends. Coworkers. They would always be there for each other. Always.

Ross sat silently at the table, too shocked for tears. He never really cried that much anyway. Whenever he was sad he would go jogging. The body loses water when you jog, leaving none left for tears. The pumping music in his ears and the endless landscape stretched out in front of him always calmed him. But he wasn’t jogging now, there was no pumping music, just the low tones of conversation beginning to start up again. There was no endless landscape, just a small coffee shop where the fumes of coffee seemed to imprison him and suddenly he felt very claustrophobic. He barely noticed a hand on his back, or the voice of one of his co workers in his ear. His vision wavered as his heart beat rose. Each breath seeming stolen. Harder and harder to let out. His panic rose alarmingly fast. Blue eyes darting across the room and seeing only the concerned faces of strangers. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see through the blur in his vision that would later prove to be tears. Using the wall for support he stood from his chair, brushing off the hands that tried to steady him as the lack of oxygen caught up to him. This wasn’t right. This really wasn’t right. He told himself to breathe but he couldn’t. Told himself to calm down but he couldn’t. He hadn’t had a panic attack since he was young, but he remembered it clearly. He needed to find Chris, but Chris was gone. He needed to find Alex, but he didn’t know where Alex was. He felt cold water in his face, as if that was going to help. He spluttered helplessly. Clenching his eyes shut as a pain flared up in his chest. Suddenly the hard oak floor under his feet turned to soft carpet, the coffee shop table next to him transformed to a bed, the tentative hand on his back turned to a reassuring arm around his shoulder. Panicked his eyes shot open.

_“Breathe Ross, listen to me. Focus on my voice.” Alex said. “I’m here. I’m right here.”_

_Ross reached out for him, arms flailing almost madly as his shaking fingers found Alex’s hoodie covered chest. He gripped the fabric like a lifeline and suddenly a movement on the other side of the room caught his attention._

_“What do you mean?” Chris yelled into the phone. “Just wait for it to pass? There’s got to be something we can do!”_

_Chris paced up and down the small dorm room, his free hand tugging his hair in frustration. “Of course we’re going to stay with him! You are literally the worst Doctor I have ever spoken to, we’re not just going to leave him like this! What? No I don’t know what caused it, I just heard it from the other room. Me and my mate came in and there were essays all over the floor and he was like this. What? Yeah-”_

_Chris continued his heated conversation and Ross found himself unable to focus on his words anymore. Alex rubbed soothing circles into his back, muttering quietly, assuring him that “This will pass.”_

_And pass it did. Ross and Alex stayed huddled on the edge of the bed and Chris joined them after hanging up the phone. They sat in silence for a while, the only sound being the now calm breathing of the trio. Ross muttered something about being embarrassed, but Alex and Chris wouldn’t hear any of it, refusing to let Ross feel bad about the situation. Ross loved his friends in that moment, and every moment since._

The carpeted floor turned back to oak and Ross’ vision cleared and his breathing evened out. Ryan from the counters hand patted him on the back and Mandy, the mango smoothie girl shot him a half sympathetic, half annoyed glare as she tried to piece her phone back together. He really didn’t love his co workers in that moment, like, not at all.

\-------

Alex banged his fist against the wall in frustration, listening carefully to the muffled voices of the people still inside the room. Sips stood next to him, scrolling through something on his phone with an air of intense concentration. This couldn’t be happening. Not now.

“Why did you come here?” Alex asked, the question had been dancing on his lips ever since he had fallen through the door.

“Same reason as you.” Sips shrugged, not taking his eyes from the small screen. “Didn’t want the place to close down, thought I could do something.”

Alex smiled at that, gratitude washing over him. “I didn’t know you cared that much about the restaurant.”

“I don’t.” Sips said, seeming to somehow know the confused expression on Alex’s face without even looking up from his phone. “I probably wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t of phoned me that night, I’ve been trying to figure out what to do ever since.”

“And you decided bursting into the room was a good idea?” Alex asked, smirking.

“Yeah.” Sips said, huffing a short laugh and Alex grinned.

“Same.” he said.

“Honestly I couldn’t give a toss about the restaurant, I still think it’s a terrible idea. But it’s Paul’s terrible idea, and if Helen taught me anything its that when your friend has a terrible idea and you can’t persuade them against it, bloody join them.”

Alex smiled, the corner of his mouth tugging into a slight grin as he looked at his still curled fists, slowly releasing them.  “Yeah.” He said, almost wistfully.

“Anyway!” Sips said, still staring at something on his phone. “We need a plan, and fast. We only have what, nine hours to stop Mark?”

“Yeah... “ Alex said. “There’s got to be a way...If we could just- Sips what the fuck are you even looking at?” he said, growing frustrated at the older mans distraction. With an annoyed sigh he plucked the phone out of Sips’ hands and glanced at the screen, his annoyed expression twisting into a strange mix between laughter and surrender. “No Sips.” He said, turning the phone off. “Googling 100 ways to kill your inspector is _not_ going to help us.”

“Well at least I’m not the one who locked him in the freezer.” Sips said coolly, though it was impossible to miss the good natured grin that was edging onto his features.

Alex laughed at that, shaking his head in desperation. “There’s got to be something that doesn’t involve freezers or murder.” he said.

“Have it your way.” Sips rolled his eyes. “Lets do it the boring way.”

Together they propped some chairs and a coffee table against the door so if Mark attempted to leave whilst they were still plotting he would be unable to get past the first door and they slumped against the wall, the occasional sound of yelling and pleading drifting through the walls to where they stood.

“I could offer him money?” Alex said, scratching his beard but Sips shook his head immediately.

“No point.” Sips said. “Inspector jobs pay well, there’s no way you’ll be able to buy him out. It took you six weeks to buy a radio.”

Alex scowled, a headache beginning to throb against his temple. “Well do you have any other bright ideas?”

Sips stood silently for a moment as if contemplating. “Is there any possible chance he’s an illegal immigrant and you have contacts in the deportation industry?”

The auburn haired man couldn’t help but groan into his palm. The restaurant was doomed.

“Wait!” Alex said, his eyes snapping open. “I have a plan, but we need to be quick.” And with that he vaulted down the stairs and into the kitchen, Sips following behind after a solitary moment of blinking and staring as Alex bolted away, followed by an irritated look straight ahead of him as if he were on the office or something.

Sips followed the sounds of Alex trashing things in the kitchen and walked in to the horror of Alex tearing apart one of the cupboards, flinging things across the pristine space in search of something. Rather than help Sips stood by and watched, a curious expression written on to his face. Even if he wanted to help he couldn’t, having no idea what Alex was even looking for.

Moments later Alex let out a triumphant cry and withdrew himself from the cupboard, arms wrapped around a large plastic bag and a manic gleam in his eyes. Sips had no idea what was going on, but he knew it wasn’t good.

“Alex this is not going to work.” He said, after Alex’s intentions had become clear. He laughed uncontrollably. “This is never going to work! Jesus Christ!”

“This is totally going to work, trust me!” Alex said with such conviction it was hard not to believe him, even so, Sips managed it.

“This is literally the worst idea you have ever had.” He said, folding his arms across his chest. “I am not going to wear that with you! Never.  Not once. You won’t find me dead wearing that. No. Nu-uh. No way am I doing that.”

Roughly seven minutes later Sips stood absolutely hating life dressed in a suit and tie, a low brimmed top hat and a bushy fake mustache and eyebrows. The hair tickled his nose and he cursed the very name of Alex Smith, who stood next to him in a similar get up, though they only had one mustache so Alex had to draw his own with a permanent marker and decided he didn't need the bushy eyebrows after all. He strolled back up the stairs with domineering confidence, shoving the various household items out of the way of the door and knocking harshly three times, forgetting that thanks to him the hinges had been busted and the door simply fell down at his touch. The surprise of the action catching him off guard and causing him to break character for a few vulnerable seconds. He shook his head quickly and stepped into the room, fingers curled around the handle of a briefcase that had nothing in it, but they didn’t know that. And that’s what counts.

“We’re the inspector inspectors.” He said in a gruff voice that wasn’t his own, nudging Sips for his input. The other man panicked, having no alter ego or character in mind, no voice to draw from.

“Ja.” He said, in what could be described as the worst attempt at a Russian/Swedish mixed accent since he had to pretend to be Gorbachev in a school History assignment.

Alex glared at him, as if it would be Sips’ fault if they didn’t fall for it and not the fault of the idiot who thought of this plan. “We received a call that a fellow inspector was acting against protocol and we are here the inspect the uh, inspector.” Alex said.

“Ja.” Sips echoed.

Mark looked at them skeptically, the confusion on his face twisting his features into a frown. If Sips didn’t know any better, he would say it looked as if Mark was going to fall for it. Lewis and Paul certainly didn’t, judging by the look of disdain on Lewis’ face and the way Paul’s face had managed to slam back down against the table.

They stood silently for a moment, Mark staring at them as if trying to piece together a really difficult puzzle. Just as it seemed he was about to take the bait he grinned widely, slapping his hand against the table. “That’s who you remind me of!” He said. “You look the the Monopoly man!” He said, pointing wildly at Sips. “Where did you guys get those mustaches, they look so real! Well, not yours Smith. Does that wash off?”

Alex gaped in such a way that reminded Sips of a fish, a lost fish. A lost dumb fish who made his friend dress up in a stupid outfit for nothing. Alex turned around silently and left the room, stepping over the broken door and Sips followed him with a sigh, picking up the door as he went and propping it back up in the door frame.

Standing in the hallway Alex dropped his briefcase to the floor and pulled off his hat, shouldering off the suit jacket in favour of slipping his hoodie back over his head.

“Hate to say I told you so.” Sips grumbled, yanking off the mustache with a grimace. “But I fucking told you so.”

\-----

“Is your ice fresh or frozen?”

The queue was so large it filed out of the door like an excessively grumpy congo line.  Mothers and Fathers with hyperactive children clinging to their hips or running around like fireballs. Teenagers laden with folders and trailing skateboards behind them like leads. Business men and women clutching their briefcases like they control nuclear launch codes. A mix of entirely different and probably interesting people that Ross wanted to brutally murder with the nearest weapon to him, which happened to be a singular red straw that offered little use as a murder weapon. His heart beat solidly in his chest and he was glad to be able to breathe again, despite the suffocating stench of coffee beans and broken dreams that hung in the air like a plague. Ryan hovered over his shoulder as if expecting him to collapse at any given moment and Mandy kept muttering about drug dealers as she poked and prodded at her broken phone. Ross tried to feel sorry for her, he really did.

All in all, this really hadn’t been a great day. On a scale of one to Tony Abbott, his day way definitely Tony Abbott levels of fuck no. In short, it had been a pretty terrible day and he really wanted to punch something, or someone. Someone knocked their mocha off the table and it erupted on the floor, covering the wooden panels with a dark brown swamp and Ross wanted to cry, or scream, or both. Instead he picked up a cloth and stepped out from behind the counter, eyeing the small pool with a disgruntled glare. Just as he was about to bend down he felt something small rush into him from behind and he took a startled step forwards to steady himself, flailing his arms madly as his foot landed in the mocha mess and caused him to slip over, whacking his head into the side of the wall for good measure.

_“You asshole, get back here!” Chris shouted, grinning wildly and throwing his pillow at the doubled over figure of Alex who was laughing so hard Ross wondered if he would ever be able to breathe again. The pillow flumped Alex in the face which only caused him to laugh harder, picking up his own pillow from the floor. “Game on!” He said between deep breaths as he tried to console himself._

_If Ross had any sense left he might have questioned why three adults were having a pillow fight in the middle of the lounge, but instead he ducked the pillow that was hurtling towards him and raised his own pillow like a shield as he charged towards Alex, knocking him over and falling with him in a pile of confused limbs and laughter. He heard the tell tale snap of a camera phone and looked up to see Chris grinning goofily at them, iPhone held in his hand.  He clambered to his feet, narrowly missing the pillow missile that Alex sent Chris’ way, who squawked loudly and flailed his hands in front of his face to block the pillow._

_“Get off me you idiot!” Chris laughed, and Ross looked up to see Alex jokingly trying to smother Chris with his pillow._

_“Help me Ross!” Alex called, struggling to hold the pillow due to his own incessant laughter._

_“Don’t you dare!” Chris said, whacking Alex in the side with his pillow and pushing him back.  Ross couldn’t help but laugh, raising his pillow above his head and running across the room, slipping on the wooden floorboards in his socks and sliding straight into the wall, his nose cracked painfully from the contact and a picture frame crashed to the floor. They later found out that his nose thankfully wasn’t broken, but that didn’t stop Alex from insisting Ross wears a Hello Kitty plaster over his nose for at least the rest of the day_.

“You alright mate?” Someone asked, though Ross couldn’t figure out where the voice was coming from. The world span around him as he staggered to his feet and turned around. His unfocused gaze resting on the small child that had barrelled into him and a sharp pain shot through his head, causing him to wince and shoot his right hand up to cradle the side of his head. Ryan was looking at him like you might look at a dog that had just barreled into a glass door and Ross felt his cheeks flare up in embarrassment and he clenched the cloth in his hand, sinking to the floor to attend to the spillage. He couldn’t help but feel dreadfully alone as he tried to shake the memory of his friends from his head, this really wasn’t fair. Maybe, just maybe these flashbacks were trying to tell him something, trying to make him remember something. Ross sighed, looking down at the red name tag attached to his shirt. The metal part of the pin brushed against his chest and he realised it wasn’t really a part of him. This tag, this shirt. They weren’t him, they didn’t connect to him, they had nothing to do with him.

If he could, he would have torn the shirt over his head and ripped it to shreds. But this new revelation didn’t change anything, it couldn’t. The facts remained the same, he still had dogs to feed. He still had himself to feed. In truth, he felt a little lost here. Granted not as lost as Chris was that one time in the ball pit but-

No. No more flashbacks. No more memories. Ross shook his head angrily as he stood up, damp sodden cloth in his hand as he stalked back to the counter where he dropped the cloth in the sink and ignored the stares of his coworkers as he forcefully tore the lid from a sharpie pen and yelled for the next customer. The poor man looked terrified as he stuttered out his order. It almost made Ross laugh, the way the guys hand tightened around his bag strap and he looked everywhere but Ross’ stony glare. He hadn’t seen someone that scared since last- oh fuck.

_“Are you sure this is safe?” Ross asked, swinging his legs over the fence and dropping down to the dusty ground below. Alex beamed at him from where he stood, almost dancing with excitement. “Course it is mate!” He said but Ross didn’t believe a word of it. Nothing screams ‘safe’ about breaking into an abandoned building that was supposedly haunted. Not that Ross really believed in ghosts, but they’d probably accidentally stumble into some kind of drug den and Ross really wasn’t in the mood to be forced to traffic drugs around the country._

_“I’m with Ross.” Chris said, struggling to get over the tall fence and waving Alex’s hands away when the taller man tried to help. “This is probably the worst idea you have ever had.”_

_“You say that about all my ideas.” Alex pouted, taking a few steps further towards the house._

_“Yeah, well you continue to surprise me.” Chris said, landing unevenly on the ground and tripping in to Ross, who luckily managed to catch him before they both crashed to the floor. Alex was already walking towards the boarded up doorway, leaving Chris and Ross no choice but to follow. They could have easily just gone to the Halloween party down the road. There was absolutely no need for them to be here breaking god knows how many rules._

_“I found a way in!” Alex called, beckoning them over. They couldn’t even bring themselves to be surprised that Alex’s definition of ‘finding a way in’ is breaking the nearest window. Before Ross could even say anything about broken glass Alex had disappeared inside and Chris clambered in after him. He took a brief moment to wonder why he ever became friends with such weirdo’s before following them in, his shoes crushing glass into the ancient floorboards when he stepped through. Alex had already fished out his torch and was shining it on the dusty, unused furniture. A ripped, waterlogged pair of shoes were sitting sadly in the corner by the doorway and a cat shaped doorstop stared up at them. Ross really would have preferred to be at the Halloween party down the road. They even had matching banana costumes for it and everything. “Isn’t this cool?” Alex said._

_No. No it wasn’t cool._

_Okay it was kind of cool._

_The door creaked in a way that Ross could only describe as eerie and he watched as Alex poked his head around the corner, his torch shining on cobwebs and causing spiders to scuttle back into dark corners to avoid the obtrusive light. Chris was being uncharacteristically quiet and that more than anything unsettled Ross. Alex wasn’t saying anything either, the smile still etched into his face but seeming far more void and empty than usual._

_“At least there’s no drug lab.” Ross said, and Chris snorted. Of course Ross’ primary worry about being in a haunted house in the middle of the night is the possibility of stumbling into a drug cartel or accidentally finding the black market. “I think this place is empty.” He continued. “Maybe we should just g-”_

_A lone floorboard creaked in one of the rooms above them and Ross fell silent. Alex’s smile slipped off his face so fast it must have broken several records. Silently they moved as one towards the staircase and Alex shone his torch up the stairs, almost expecting to see something. The floorboards creaked again and the sound of something scratching against the walls echoed throughout the house and Chris swore under his breath._

_Alex seemed to have made his mind up, turning back was out of the question now as he set off up the stairs, the old wooden steps creaking under his weight. Chris followed behind him, perhaps finding some kind of comfort from being in the middle. Ross brought up the rear, admiring the old architecture of the building as they climbed the staircase._

_The scratching was much closer now and a strong breeze blew in from an open window, forcing Ross to roll the sleeves down on his hoodie and turn his back on the window. He didn’t dare try to close it, this building was so old the whole thing might come crumbling down._

_“What the fuck is that?” Chris asked, his eyes wide as he looked around. The darkness of the musty old house seemed to surround them and he shoved his hand into his pocket, fumbling around for his phone so he could use it as a torch. He pulled his phone out, hand brushing against Alex’s arm as he did so._

_**“AAAAARRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHH”** Alex yelled, dropping his torch and falling into the door where the scratching was coming from. The door was so ancient and rotten that it collapsed under his weight. The scratching suddenly stopped and by the light of Chris’ phone a cat shot out of the room and bolted past them, leaping out of the open window and landing in a nearby tree where it hissed at them before climbing back down to the ground and disappearing into the night._

_Ross looked back at Alex who was illuminated by the glow of Chris’ phone and for a moment their eyes met and Ross burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, clutching at his sides for support._

_“Oh-my-fucking-GOD-Smith” he coughed between breaths as he wiped tears from his eyes, Chris started laughing too, though more out of relief than anything else. Alex clambered to his feet and ran a hand through his hair, cheeks flaring up in embarrassment_

_“Isn’t this cool?!” Ross choked, imitating Alex’s earlier words. “You go to a haunted house and the two things that scare you are Chris and a cat. Chris Trott. Chris. A man roughly the size of a dandelion. And a cat. A fucking cat oh my god.”_

_“How did a cat even get in there?” Alex asked, ignoring Ross’ continuous laughter._

_“The wind probably slammed the door closed whilst it was inside.” Chris said, making his way back to the staircase._

_Ross offered Alex a hand up, still grinning wildly. Alex reluctantly accepted it and Ross hauled him to his feet, patting him on the back with his free hand. Alex would laugh about this later, but right now he just needed a strong drink. “It’s okay mate.” Ross said, as if reading his mind. “I bet that Halloween party down the road is still going on.”_

“Rufus.” The man in front of him said, fumbling with his wallet.

“What?” Ross asked, blinking as he took in the figure of the stranger.

“My name? It’s uh..Rufus?” the man said, looking up at him as if he were afraid Ross was going to stab him with the sharpie.

Oh, right, the sharpie. Ross looked down at the pen in his hand and his brain suddenly caught up to him. He scrawled the customers name on the cup and passed it to Mandy, who still was trying to piece her phone back together.

\-----

Chris looked down at the crumpled receipt in his hands from the local store. The small writing betraying his grocery list and an obscene amount of alcohol. He walked over to his window and reflected on his surroundings. He had always quite liked his apartment, with it’s spacious halls and well lit rooms. But tonight the empty place encouraged his tendency to feel alone.

He thought he saw something in the distance, or rather some _one_. But the hail fell thick and fast outside his window and if there was a figure outside, it was long gone by the time Chris could peer through the onslaught. He decided to think nothing of it, choosing instead to pick his keys from the bowl near the door and head out, locking the door behind him. He had tried phoning Ross but the other man didn’t pick up, and it was all radio silence on Alex’s end. Chris was, essentially, alone. It felt to him as if he had not felt this way since meeting his two best friends, and he couldn’t stop the icy chill from clawing into his heart at that realisation.

He stalked past his car, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he stepped out into the street. He pulled his hood up to cover his head from the thickening hail as he footsteps splashed against the ground. Through the thundering sky the town ahead of him became illuminated and in that moment seemed warm and inviting. With his back to the wind he continued his trek, one foot in front of the other until suddenly he was pushing through a large oak door into one of the local pubs and crashing into one of the black bar stools.

“What’ll it be?” The bartender asked, a man of roughly thirty with a neatly trimmed black beard and gelled hair, Chris couldn’t really place his accent but it sounded roughly like he came from Dublin. The bartender offered him a smile as he finished putting away a few glasses under the counter.

“Budweiser please.” Chris said, pushing his hood down and resting his elbows on the bar, he looked at the bartender as if he were looking right through him, his eyes slightly glazed over.

The bartender pushed the bottle in front of him and placed down a glass next to it. He continued to consider Chris with a raised eyebrow for a moment before the curiosity got the better of him.

“You alright mate?” He asked. Chris looked up at him, as if he were surprised by the interaction. For a moment he considered lying and getting back to his drink, but fuck it.

“God no.” He said. “My friends are dicks...I'm a dick. Everyones a dick.”

The barkeep frowned at him, a slight smile graced his lips. “Hey now, not everyone! I’m not a dick.”

Chris offered him a slight smile, wetting his lips with his drink as he raised the bottle to his mouth.

“Names Jack by the way.” The barkeep said, turning away only to grab the remote for the tv that hung on the near wall and to turn it down a bit.

“Chris.” Chris said, raising the bottle in form of greeting.

“So your friends are dicks huh?

Chris laughed bitterly. “The biggest dicks.” and with that he downed the rest of the drink and ordered another.

Six bottles in and Chris was swaying on his stool. Taking this moment to actually look around the bar for the first time since he walked in. Though his vision was blurred unstable he could make out the bright lights in the ceiling, the jukebox in the far corner and the deep red carpet that was stained with age and booze.  Oak tables and chairs covered the floor space and one or two black leather sofas occupied the corners. He had been here what? Two hours? No, can’t be. He tried to look at his watch but the numbers swirled into one and the whole thing just seemed useless, so useless that he decided to just take it off and throw it behind him. In whatever time he had been here, he had only seen one other person walk in. Other than that the place was empty and the newcomer took a seat near to him, through the corner of his eye he could see the stranger glaring at him, probably for talking too loudly.

“And thats not the worst bit!” he hiccuped, brandishing the bottle like a weapon at Jack. “Now I feel like the bad guy! Me! I practically raised him y’know!” He said, raising the bottle to his lips and missing completely, spilling it mostly over his chest. He shrugged, fastening his grip on the bottle even more. “Like, I know Ross was already practically raised. But I took him for his first meal at Nando’s and that counts for something right?!”

Jack just nods at him, still seeming interested despite how long Chris had been yelling.

“And Alex, the asshole. He gets up and is all ‘I’m going to do something stupid’ and-” Chris interrupts himself by laughing at his own impression, spilling even more of his drink as his body shakes with laughter. Suddenly he sits still again, all traces of laughter gone. “And he just leaves! Doesn’t answer his phone, doesn’t text back! He could be dead for all I know! God I feel like his mother. But that would be weird though because I’m not a woman and I didn’t give birth to him. Plus he was hard enough to deal with during puberty when I was just his friend, imagine being his mother.” he shivered for dramatic effect, draining the dregs of the bottle and demanding another.

“Sounds like you’ve got it bad mate.” Jack said, opening the fridge behind the bar and shuffling some of the drinks around. A moment later he emerged empty handed. “Sorry man, looks like you’ve had the last one! I’ll go check in the cellar.”

Chris watched him go. Or rather, tried too, but almost fell out of his chair so decided it was safest just to sit still and stare at the empty bottle. A movement next to him reminded him of the presence of the stranger and he spun on his barstool, miraculously keeping his balance.

“And another thing!” He said, brandishing his empty bottle.

“There literally isn’t a violin small enough to express how much I don’t care.” The man muttered, interrupting Chris’ tirade and refusing to make eye contact with him.

Chris narrowed his eyes, rocking slightly in his chair. The bar was silent for a moment and the stranger let out a sigh of relief. That however, seemed to be the trigger to set Chris back into motion.

“It’s like...Like my two best friends are on two different boats and they’re like...I dunno, viking ships or something and I’m just standing at the dock waving my handkerchief and I just want those two ships to merge back into one ship. Like..Uh, you know that scene in Titanic when it sinks because it’s split in two and- wait. Do you think the ship sunk because it was no longer whole? The two asshole pieces that held it together fell apart from each other and the ship just sank. Like, _maybe_ they are the pieces and I’m the...The..I’m Rose. Because I’m just chilling on my plank of wood or whatever it was because seriously _fuck_ that ship it’s it’s own damn fault for sinking in the first place.”

The stranger continued to glare at the empty space in front of him. All he wanted was a quiet drink and this drunk asshole just has to ruin it all. With a slight twitch he downed his pint and grabbed his umbrella from his side, slinging it over his shoulder and walking towards the door.

“Wait!” Chris called, sticking his hand out and this time actually falling off his stall. “How do I fix the ship?!”

The stranger swung open the door and faced the blistering cold outside just as Jack returned carrying a crate of budweiser.

“I still really don’t care.” The stranger called, slamming the door behind him. Jack stared at the space his customer once was forlornly and let out a soft sigh, putting the crate down on the bar counter and crossing the space to offer Chris his hand.

Chris gladly took it, staggering to his feet. “Where did he go?” He said, spinning around in a circle.

“He left.” Jack said, glancing at the door. “Should have known leaving you to your own devices wouldn’t end well.” His grin was good natured, and Chris couldn’t help but smile back as he climbed back on to his barstool. “But maybe I’ll have to cut you off.” Jack said, appearing back behind the bar again. “It’s not even six and you’re out of it. Though I can’t say I don’t mind the extra income.”

“Whaddaya mean?” Chris asked, leaning across the bar with a concerned expression.

Jack sighed, abandoning the crate next to the fridge and he turned to Chris. “This place isn’t doing too well. Old girls been open too long.” He patted the bar fondly, comforting it under his fingertips. “Look around you.  Does it look busy to you?”

Chris looked around the quiet bar. The only sounds being the low drone of the television and the soft melody from the jukebox. Other than them, there was no one there.

“It’s not much better at night either.” Jack continued. “It’s just me that works here now. The landlord says we’re gonna have to close down soon.” His hand ghosted the counter and he smiled sadly “She’s had a good run this place though. Thats what counts right? So many memories here. That sofa over there? I’ve seen so many couples start and end right there. I’ve seen bets between friends won on that table. And strangers uniting over football in that spot right there. Where you’re sitting right now I’ve seen people come and go, some sad, some happy. I’ve seen friendships start from the bottom of the bottle and I’ve even seen someone propose, and someone saying yes. It’s the memories that last. The memories that’ll outlive this place, long after she’s knocked to the ground. Thats all you can really ask for right?”

Chris blinked, a headache forming behind his eyes. “What’ll happen to you?” He asked and Jack looked pained. He let his hand fall from the counter and considered Chris with sad eyes. “I’ll have to go back to Ireland.” He said. “Not that it’ll be bad to see my ma again, but my whole lifes here y’know? My home. My girlfriend. I’ve even got me-self a lil’ dog, Lottie her name is.”

Jack stood silently for a moment as if he were contemplating before shaking his head, turning to open the small crate and pull two budweisers from it. He popped the lids off and handed one to Chris, clinking his own against Chris’ and raising his bottle towards the ceiling.

“To fixing the ship” he said and Chris smiled, raising his own bottle.

“To fixing the ship.”

\------

A few hours passed and Alex still paced up and down outside the room racking his brain for a new idea. Sips just watched him from where he stood, leaning against the wall. Every so often Alex’s eyes would light up and a new scheme would arise to the tip of his tongue. Only to roll back down again and leave his eyes empty. Lewis, Paul and Mark were still talking in the other room and small snippets of conversation drifted through the walls. Worlds like “Please” and “No” came up a lot.

“I’ve got it!” Alex said, clicking his fingers and rounding on Sips. “What was the one thing that went wrong when we dressed up earlier?”

“I would say the thing that went wrong was that we dressed up in the first place.” Sips said cooly, folding his arms across his chest.

“The problem was that he could see us.” Alex said, ignoring Sips’ comment. “It’s easy, we just have to make sure he can’t see us and he won’t know it’s us! Give me your phone.”

“What? No.” Sips said, shaking his head. “Use your own!”

“I left it in the car.” Alex said with a shrug, absent mindedly wondering if Chris had tried to call him at all, probably.

Reluctantly Sips handed Alex his phone and Alex made quick work of scrolling through the contacts until he found what he was looking for. He tapped the name **_Peabody_** and held the device to his ear.

“Lewis?” He said as soon as the other man picked up.

“What are you doing?” Came Lewis’ reply, doubt deep in his tone.

Alex cleared his throat, took a deep breath and winked at Sips. Within seconds he changed his voice, putting on what he thought to be an absolutely stellar impression. “My name-” He said slowly and with all the airs of grace. “-Is Prince George.”

Sips facepalmed so hard Alex wouldn’t be surprised if he left permanent damage and he could hear Lewis’ patented annoyed intake of breath through the phone. “Pass me to the inspector please.” He said, he could practically hear the indecision through the connection and hear the cogs in Lewis’ overworked brain whirring madly as he considered his options. Eventually though Alex heard the phone pass from hand to hand and soon enough Mark’s voice drifted into his ear.

“Hello?” Mark asked, even his tone sounded exhausted.

“Am I speaking to Mark Turpin?” Alex asked, struggling to keep the voice consistent.

“Yes?”

“Very good. My name is Prince Charles and I’m afraid you’ve been called back from duty and all charges against Chilli Wowa’s are to be dropped immediately.”

Mark was silent on the other end for a moment. But soon enough the tell tale sounds of his raucous laughter were rattling through the phone and Alex felt like hitting something. He could just imagine Mark wiping the tears of laughter from his eyes and the sound of a series of dull thuds echoing from the room told tales of Paul slamming his head into the table multiple times.

“That was a good one Alex!” Mark said, clearly not understanding Alex’s intentions. Alex hung up.

“Oh fuck this.” Sips said, taking his phone back from Alex and pushing into the door, which fell over again. Unfazed he stalked across the room to Mark who was still laughing and glowered at him, not even looking behind him he gestured for Lewis and Paul to leave immediately, which they did without much hesitation at all. Alex tried to peek through the doorway but Lewis and Paul each took him by his arms and carried him with them down the stairs. This was a war they really didn’t want to be stuck in the middle of, they were much better off hiding under the tables downstairs.

“Listen here buddy.” Sips said, settling into the chair opposite Mark, “You and I have a lot of talking to do. And once we’re done talking, I’m going to make you an offer. You can choose to accept or decline this offer, but if you decline, you will never get this opportunity again. Capiche?”

Mark gulped.

**  
**  


Paul busied himself by making a cup of tea, his hands still shaking and his knees weak from sitting down for too long. The restaurant was still and quiet, something none of them were used to. They could hear the wind rattle softly against the windows and the occasional bird warble outside. Something crashed in the room above them, probably the sound of the unstable door hitting the floor again and footsteps creaked through the hallway and echoed down the staircase. Paul gripped his mug so hard Lewis thought it might crack and Alex looked up from where he sat, eyes trained on the doorway. Sips appeared in a halo of light that later turned out to be just a faulty , too bright lightbulb that flickered and hummed softly, Mark trailed behind him, his briefcase held loosely in his hands.

Lewis had learned a long time ago not to try to guess anything from Sips’ expression, the mans resting face was a poker face. It would be easier to break into Buckingham palace. That being said, he did look vaguely happy.

Sips looked at them for a moment, seeming to enjoy the tense atmosphere that shrouded the others. The corner of his mouth twitched into a smile and he rested his hand on Mark's shoulder. “Do you guys still want the restaurant?” he said, and even he had trouble keeping the joy out of his tone.

Paul dropped the mug, its contents spilling across the floor and the mug itself clanking against the floor and rolling away, thankfully unbroken, not that any of them were paying attention to the mug anyway.

“What?” Lewis asked, looking at Sips, then Mark, then Sips, then Mark again. This couldn’t be happening.

Alex didn’t say anything, he couldn’t say anything. Part of him felt like Sips was just messing with them, he had to be. The clock above the door struck 10 o'clock, under the presumed circumstances Mark would be leaving in two hours and the restaurant would be officially shut down forever. But here Sips stood like a beacon of light and Alex didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or both.

“That’s right you dinguses.” Sips said, his hand slipping off Marks shoulder so he could strike a powerful pose, hands on his waists and elbows pointing out like sails. “The place is all yours, the document conveniently got lost somewhere so Solid Snake here-” he paused to slap Mark good heartedly on the back “-had to rewrite it, and whaddya know? No strikes!”

“But...How?” Paul asked, feeling suddenly faint.

Sips shrugged. “I offered him a job working for me.”

“Wait, I thought you said inspectors get paid a whole shit ton, you said we couldn’t afford to buy him out?” Alex said, his voice was hoarse as if he hadn’t used it in weeks.

“I said _you_ couldn’t afford it.” Sips corrected. “Had you of let me finish instead of running off to your dressing up box we might have finished this a lot sooner.”

Alex felt his cheeks flaring up, and normally he might have been embarrassed, but in this case it didn’t seem to matter at all. Slowly and wordlessly he stood up, the restaurant blurred around him and all he could see was his friends, all he could hear was their voices in his ear.

_“Ross you twat, what are you doing?!” Chris laughed from the bar, shaking a dish cloth in Ross’ direction._

_Ross didn’t seem to hear him, most likely due to the earphones plugged into his ears and the music blaring out of them. “This is the rhythm of the night!” He sang, dancing around the tables. He was supposed to be cleaning them to get them ready for the days customers but for the past few minutes Chris hadn’t seen him squirt any of his Mr Muscle cleaning spray even once. Ross definitely wasn’t a great dancer, but he moved to the music and sticked to the beat as he wielded the cleaning spray like he was brandishing a weapon and was facing against an invisible enemy. Alex watched from the doorway of his kitchen, a large smile on his face as he leant against the frame._

_Ross finally looked up at Chris and grinned, dancing over to him in a shockingly good impression of the Inbetweeners dance. “Come on Chris!” he yelled over the music in his head. Chris laughed reluctantly and Ross rolled his eyes, pulling his headphones out and setting up his iPod into the dock attached to the wall. Moments later Bastille blared through the stereo system  and Chris couldn’t help but throw his head back and laugh at the eager look on Ross’ face._

_Ross grabbed Chris by the arm and pulled him out into the restaurant, spraying Chris’ face with Mr Muscle and laughing as his friend spluttered. Chris grinned, shoving Ross’ chest and knocking the bottle out of his hand. Alex laughed, eyes shining as he watched his friends jump around the restaurant, his knee bopped in time to the music and soon enough he was dancing with them, he took Ross by the hands and twirled him around before lifting Chris above his head in a dirty dancing type move. This is why he loved working here._

_Not because of the pay, the god awful pay. Not because of the boss’ (as great as they are) Not because of the location, or the status, or the references, no. He loved this job because of his friends. Because only here would he ever get to dance around the empty restaurant to Ross’ music. Sips was there that day, propped up against the bar talking to Lewis and Paul, eyeing the three of them with humorous curiosity.  This was everything he had ever wanted._

All eyes seemed to be trained on him and Alex realized he must have been standing for quite some time. Without another word he bolted towards Sips and Mark, grabbing both of them and enveloping them in a bone crushing hug. He clung to their shirts like a child might cling onto it’s mother and felt Sips’ hand awkwardly pat his back.

Lewis and Paul watched the scene unfold from where they stood. Lewis smiled easily, some sweet memory playing in his eyes as he looked on. Paul recognized that look, remembered that shine. He grinned happily, nudging Lewis’ shoulder gently.

“I know what you’re thinking about.” He said with a smile, looking back at Alex, Sips and Mark.

Lewis raised his eyebrow, a smile playing on his lips as he looked at Paul. “Oh yeah?” he asked.

“Mhm.” Paul said with a nod, still smiling. “When we first met them. You told me something, do you remember what that was?”

If you looked closely, you might say that Lewis had tears shining in his eyes, tears of relief or joy, maybe both. But mostly of contemptment, of remembrance. He smiled again, looking back at the hug. “I said they reminded me of how I used to be. Me, Simon and Duncan.”

“He hugged you like that when we gave them the job.” Paul said, the same remembrance shining in his own eyes. “You looked just like a proud dad.”

“I felt like one too.” Lewis said, grinning openly.

“Alright Smith don’t make it weird.” Sips said, untangling himself from the hug that had gone on far too long to be classed as a normal hug. Mark didn’t look like he particularly minded.

“By the way…” Alex said, a question forming on his lips. “Mark is working for you now yeah? What is it that you actually do?”

“What’s my job?” Sips asked. “Well don’t tell anyone but I-”

Lewis’ phone rang shrill and loud, drowning out Sips’ response. Awkwardly he fumbled around in his pockets in an attempt to silence it. His smile only grew when he saw who was ringing him.

 _“Chris!”_ He answered, holding the phone to his ear.

 _“Hey Lewis, is Alex there? He’s not picking up his phone.”_ Chris said, his voice slightly slurred.

 _“He’s here.”_ Lewis said, you could even hear the smile in his tone.

 _“Can I talk to him?”_ Chris asked, Lewis knew he was tipsy, maybe even drunk. He’s had far more than his fair share of drunk calls from Chris, Alex and Ross over the years.

 _“Well you can talk to him tomorrow.”_ Lewis said, sitting down on a bar stool.

 _“What?”_ Chris asked. _“I mean...I guess I could? But like, wouldn’t it just be better to talk to him now instead of having to meet up tomorrow?”_

 _“Well you can talk to him at the restaurant in that case.”_ Lewis said, glancing down at his watch as if timing how long it’ll take for Chris to catch on.

 _“Why would I be at the restaurant tomorrow?”_ Chris asked, confusion seeping through the phone. _“Is there a goodbye party or something?”_

_“Not at all. But it’s a good thing you have a job so you can afford to go to parties isn’t it?”_

_“What are you on about?? I don’t have a job anymore.”_ Chris said, sounding almost pained by his confusion.

Lewis sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. _“Look, if you want to get paid, come into work tomorrow.”_

There was silence on the line for a moment, Lewis could practically hear the cogs in Chris’ drunken mind whirring furiously.

 _“Wait…”_ Chris said after a minute of silence. _“You don’t mean…”_

 _“See you at work Mr Bartender.”_ Lewis said, the smile returning to his face as he hung up.

“So...About your job Sips?” Alex continued, looking back at Sips.

“The moments passed.” Sips said with a dismissive wave of his hand, strolling out of the restaurant. “See you guys tomorrow! C’mon Mark, you still have to quit your old job and all that.”

Mark grinned, shaking the hands of Alex, Lewis and Paul in turn. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” he called over his shoulder. “Oh, and well done with the inspection, no strikes at all!” He grinned, winking at them and waving as he left through the double doors.

Lewis, Paul and Alex all looked at each other, hearts racing and eyes shining. Helen was right all along Alex thought to himself. _“If that’s where you’re all meant to be, that’s where you’ll end up.”_

__

\-----

They stood in the restaurant about an hour before opening time, all of them so eager and so desperate to be there just in case it was all a dream, each of them searching for confirmation that last night really happened. The morning sun shone brightly through the windows and the sludge boiler gurgled gently and calmly in the field outside.

Mark and Sips sat on one on the tables near the bar, Sips’ legs stretched out as if he owned the place, and truthfully this place still existed thanks to him, so he could do whatever he wanted. Lewis and Paul sat on two of the bar stools, a pint of water in front of both of them.

“I can’t believe it.” Chris said, rubbing his temple to rid himself of the last of his hangover. “How did this happen?”

“Sips happened.” Alex answered and Sips grinned. Mark finishing filing away his forms from his now previous inspecting job and grinned too, He definitely looked a lot happy Alex noted.

“Do you want a refill?” Chris asked Paul, taking the near empty pint of water from him.

“Yeah please!” Paul said. “Always good to have water in a chilli restaurant,theres a difference between hot and holy burning hell.”

Chris laughed, twisting the cold tap on and filling the glass. Suddenly he almost lost his grip on the glass and he swore loudly, catching the attention of everyone else. “What did you just say?” he asked, looking up at Paul.

“Uhh..” Paul began, raising his eyebrow. “I said it’s always good to have water in a chilli restaurant, theres a difference between hot and holy burning hell..”

The glass was overflowing with water now and Chris stared at Paul as if he were looking straight through him.

“Water in a chilli restaurant…” he echoed.

_“I think he’s still annoyed about that woman from earlier.”_

_“What did she actually do? All I heard was she apparently isn't a spice fan.” Alex said, leaning against the counter._

_“She started shouting about false advertising; something about hairless dogs...I’m not really sure, I heard her yelling from all the way over at my bar.”_

_“Really? That’s a bit weir-“_

_Smith’s voice was cut off halfway through his sentence by a loud and familiar yelp coming from the front of restaurant, Chris and Alex both looked at each other in confusion and moments later Ross pushed through the kitchen door, face and shirt drenched in water. “Chris. You’re needed at the bar.” he groaned, grabbing a nearby cloth and pressing it to his face._

_They couldn't help it, Alex and Chris burst into laughter at the sight of Ross, and lets be honest here, he did look like a bit of a prat standing there getting the kitchen floor all wet. “Did you fall in the sludge again mate?” Alex asked between breaths, leaning against Chris who was doubled over with laughter. “Yeah yeah laugh it up!” Ross said, unable to keep a slight grin from forming on his damp face “But no, zero sludge involved.”_

_“What happened then?” Chris asked, straightening up and taking off his glasses to wipe the tears from his eyes._

_“That bloody woman threw her water all over me!! She said even the water tasted like Chilli’s, how is that even possible?!” Ross exclaimed, running the cloth through his hair in an attempt to dry himself off. He hated people, loathed them, despised them, with all their complaining and water throwing and the stupid looks on their stupid faces. Not all people are bad. Just most of them, especially that woman. Good god he hated that woman. If it wasn’t for Company Rule 37 Subsection C – Do not punch the customers (Ross that means you) he would have gone super saiyan. Well maybe not, Ross isn’t one for conflict. But you can be sure that he would at least glare at her for a good few minutes. And Ross is really good at glaring._

__

“Chris mate, you okay?” Alex asked, his tone laced with unmasked concern, They had come too far to have a breakdown now god damn it.

“Ross…” Chris said. “Ross isn’t here.”

The restaurant fell into an awkward silence. Lewis hung his head and Alex clenched his fists. Chris turned the tap off and pushed the overflowing glass towards Paul. Even Sips looked vaguely pained. They all felt like something was missing, had felt that since they arrived that morning. It was like a part of the Tri-force had gone, or one of the three musketeers had fallen, or one of the three little pigs had been eaten, or - well, you get the idea.

“Well…” Mark said. “Why don’t we go and get him?”

They all looked at him then, but rather than feel embarrassed or on the spot he just shrugged, as if the answer was obvious. “Well you miss him right? So why not actually tell him that? It can’t hurt to try right, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Alex gaped at him for a moment and suddenly felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He had been blaming Ross for leaving ever since that day in his apartment, but not once did he ever try telling him the truth. Not once did he ever ask for him to come back. Could it really be that simple? Was it too late?

“Well it’s not too late!” Paul said as if reading his mind and Lewis nodded, fishing his keys out of his pocket.

“If we go now we might just make it back in time for the opening.” He said, stepping down from his stool and pushing through the double doors, beckoning for them all to follow him.

They trooped down the staircase to the parking lot and Lewis, having one of those fancy cars that could be unlocked by the click of a button, unlocked his car before they even reached it.

“Uhh...Problem.” Chris said, eyeing the car. “This car has five seats...There’s seven of us.”

“Good maths Scrotty. We’ll just have to double up.” Alex said as he clambered into the car, the roof of the car was quite low and as a result he almost kneed himself in the chin. Once he was settled in he pulled an indignant Chris Trott onto his lap. Chuckling as Chris bumped his head against the roof of the car.

“Asshole.” Chris muttered, but there was no malice in his voice.

Lewis climbed into the drivers seat and pushed the key into the ignition as Mark and Sips also clambered into the back and Paul opened the door to the front passenger seat.

“Lets go!” Lewis cried triumphantly as he pulled out of the parking spot. They must have looked a right sight travelling down the highway, a mess of tangled limbs in the small car that rolled, purred and occasionally spluttered underneath them. Lewis and Paul were both practically squashed up against the windshield in an attempt to give the back seat passengers more room, not that it did much as Marks legs were still pressed up against his chest and they all closely resembled a sardine can. They would worry about cramp later, right now they had a mission to complete!

\------

“So wait, The Fox and the Hound is your favourite movie?” Mandy asked, tying her hair up into a ponytail as she watched Ross set up the welcome sign in the front of the store.

“No no no, not my favourite, just always thought it was quite good.” Ross said and he could hear Mandy’s stupid smirk. Which, first things first, is pretty weird because smirks don’t make sounds, but hers does. And Ross hates it.

“Isn't it a children's film though?” she asked, having barely even acknowledged Ryan who arrived at that moment.

“Doesn’t mean it can’t be good.” Ross said testily, moving to stand behind the counter and arrange a few stray cups and straws. He caught a sympathetic glance from Ryan and felt a little better, but only a little.

“Still seems a little childish.” She said, not even bothering to help the others tidy up the store before they opened.

“It’s a little childish to get pleasure out of watching other people argue.” he muttered, more to himself than her, but she heard anyway.

“What, you mean your drug dealer friend?”

“He’s not a drug dealer.” Ross said, tearing the lid off his sharpie with too much force, cracking it down the middle and sending it flying across the room by accident.

Ryan opened the doors then and switched the ‘closed’ sign to ‘open’ and Ross sighed, he had a stupidly long shift to get through. He never realised how much he hated Mondays until today.

“Hello and welcome to Starbucks, what would you like?” he asked the first customers, not even bothering to look up from the empty cup in his hand.

“I’d like my friend back.” An all too familiar voice resounded. The plastic cup creaked in Ross’ hand before he let it drop to the floor, the sharpie bouncing off the ground as it fell too.

“Alex?” Ross almost whispered, panning his gaze up to see Alex standing there. His hair a disheveled mess, his eyes wide, a cautious smile hanging on his lips. Ross blinked, scared to reach out and touch him in case he fluttered away like smoke, in case he wasn’t there at all. Chris stood by his side and suddenly it was as if Ross could breathe again with them here. He never realised how stifling the store was until they were in front of him to give him a new breath of life.

The store was silent, Mandy was busy glaring at Chris whilst Ryan looked on with a disengaged interest. Ross didn't know what to do, what to say. Alex and Chris looked at him as if they were waiting for him to say something and all of a sudden he was a kid again, playing Call of Duty in his dorm room with his two best friends by his side.

“What are you doing here?” He eventually said because he knew that very soon other customers would begin to arrive.

“We’re here to take you back mate. All of us are.” Chris said, and Ross must have looked confused because Chris gestured to the car parked opposite the store. Through the windows Ross could make out the figures and faces of Lewis and Paul sat in the front, fiddling with the radio and occasionally laughing at what Mark or Sips said in the back of the car. Ross felt something he couldn’t quite place tug on his heartstrings and a steady smile spread across his face.

“But the restaurant..” He began, only to be shushed by Alex.

“We’ll explain on the way.” He said, presenting Ross with a crisp, folded white shirt, or to be more accurate, Ross’s crisp, folded white shirt  that he always wore to work. “So what do you say mate?” Alex asked, pushing the shirt across to him “Come back with us?”

Ross looked at the pair of them wordlessly, his gaze filtering down to the shirt in Alex’s hands. A movement from the other side of the store caught his eye and he looked up to see Ryan giving him the thumbs up and smiling at him. It’s the first time Ross has ever seen him genuinely smile, it looked good on him. _“Go! Escape whilst you still can!”_ Ryan mouthed and like magic all feelings of dread and confusion washed out of him and he was left only with trust in his friends. He didn’t care where they went, or what they did. He would travel with them into the depths of hell with a smile on his face and joy in his heart. He realised then that it didn’t matter what might happen to them in the years to come, as long as they faced it together. Somewhere along the way he had forgotten that. He was glad to remember it again.

He grinned at Ryan, nodding at him as he took the shirt from Alex’s waiting hands and tearing his apron off over his shoulders. “I quit!” He yelled, throwing the apron on the floor. Ryan and a few other co workers even applauded him, Mandy just glowered at them.

“Cheer up.” Ross said, grinning with a newfound sense of freedom. “It’s childish to pout.”

It may not have been the best closing line, but it worked. Mandy blinked in shock before eliminating her pout and replacing it with a deadly glare, Ross only smiled wider. And with that he stalked past her and out of the counter.

“Goodbye everyone!” He called over his shoulder. “I’ve hated every minute of working here!”

Chris and Alex could only laugh as they watched their friend push through the glass double doors and follow him, it was so unlike Ross to act in this manor, but that just made it even better.

“Now there’s eight of us in a five seater car…” Chris noted and this time it was Ross who shrugged and said “We’ll just have to double up.”

Mark shuffled over so he was half sat on Sips, half sat on Alex and Chris settled on top of Ross in the window seat. It was incredibly uncomfortable, but none of them really minded. They were all together again, that’s what mattered.

“Hey Ross, what's that?” Alex asked, flicking something hard and plastic attached to Ross’ shirt. Ross looked down, a small smile spreading across his lips as he undid the metal pin clasp and turned the badge over in his palm.

“It’s my name tag.” he said almost distantly, looking down at the black writing that proclaimed his name. Part of him wanted to keep hold of it forever so that he might remember this moment. But then Lewis fiddled with the radio and soon enough music was twittering out of the stereo.

_“Hold on to me as we go_

_As we roll down this unfamiliar road_

_And although this wave is stringing us along_

__

_Just know you’re not alone_

_Cause I’m gonna make this place your home.”_

Chris shifted in Ross’ lap, his head brushing against the roof as he tried to block Alex’s attempts to poke him in the side. Mark sang enthusiastically along with the music. Ross swore he must be magic, because even Sips and Lewis joined it with him and Paul laughed, echoing the drum beats on the dashboard of the car.

_“Ooo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo. Oo-oo-oo-oo_

_Ooo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo. Oo-oo-oo-oo_

_Aaa-aa-aa-aa-aa-aa-aa. Aa-aa-aa-aaaaaa”_

Chris and Alex joined in then, and Alex used Chris’ distraction to successfully jab him in the side. Ross couldn’t help but laugh. The pin prick of the needle on his tag dug into his skin and he realised that he didn’t need a piece of plastic to remind him that he loved his friends. Without a word he rolled down the window and threw the tag outside. Paul caught his eye in the wing mirror and grinned at him. Ross wouldn’t have this any other way.

\------

“So what are we going to do to celebrate the reopening?” Sips asked. “I would let you borrow my penthouse but no thats a terrible idea so I'm not going to do that.”

“You have a _penthouse?!_ ” Alex asked, agitated. “ _Seriously_ mate what do you do?!”

They were still getting ready to open, the clock above the door struck ten to and for the most part they were just sitting around talking. Lewis was looking at something interesting out of the window and Paul was nursing a hot cup of tea. In the corner of the bar area Chris and Mark were enjoying a quick game of pool and Ross sat on the bar itself, listening in on Alex’s conversation.

“I know where we could go.” Chris said, leaning on his pool cue as Mark potted one of his balls. “There’s this really nice pub in the town, they could really do with the business, I owe them that much at the least.”

Lewis looked over then and nodded. “Sounds good to me, we’ll throw a big party, invite everybody!”

Paul looked across at him and smiled. “I bet Kim and Hannah will go, who else are you going to invite?”

Lewis raised his eyebrow calculatingly and smiled, looking at Paul before switching his gaze to the pool table where Ross and Alex had joined Chris to help him through his losing streak. His smile broke into a grin when Ross and Alex picked Chris up and held him horizontally to help him make a particularly long shot. “I think I’ll invite Simon and Duncan.” He said, the same look from before shining in his eyes and Paul grinned, knocking his shoulder in understanding.

“What’s that?” Mark asked, nodding at a plastic bag sticking out of Alex’s backpack.

“Oh uh, it’s nothing.” Alex said.  
“Last time you said that I almost drowned in a mountain of chilli.” Mark said, raising his eyebrow with a grin.

Chris pulled a DVD out of the bag and inspected it closely before grinning. “Seriously Alex?” He said, holding up the copy of ‘The Fox and the Hound’ so that the others could see it.

“I just thought we could maybe watch it later.” Alex muttered, cheeks reddening as he swiped the DVD out of Chris’ hands, shoving it deep inside his bag.  “But alright you don’t have to be a little bitch about it if you don’t want to. I can just take it back.”

“No!” Ross said, and Alex looked up at him. “Lets watch it!” Ross said, his eyes shining as he grinned.

Chris chuckled, patting Alex on the back, they all sure had weird ways of showing that they care.

\-----

“If you get to invite Helen then I get to invite Ryan.” Ross said later that day after the doors had opened and a long queue of people appeared out of seemingly nowhere, they must have really missed the restaurant. He leant against the kitchen counter and folded his arms across his chest, yawning into his hand.

“Fine by me, just don’t invite that girl… I think she wanted to eat Chris, and like, not in a kinky way… In a murder way.” Alex said with a grin, pulling his frying pan and spatula out of a drawer. Ross laughed, shaking his head as he left the kitchen to go help get people seated. Alex watched him go for a moment before smiling and turning to his radio. He looked at it for a minute, sinking in the sight of seeing his baby again before plugging it it and listening to it crackle into life. Soon enough Radio One was flowing through the speakers and he suddenly felt like he was home again.

“By the way.” Ross said, his face re-appearing around the door. “Your portions are still really small.”

“And your ego’s still too big.” Alex said, smirking wickedly.

“Ooh zinger!” Ross laughed, disappearing back into the restaurant to the sultry tones of Chris yelling for help at the bar.

**  
**  
  



End file.
